Second Life
by OddKitty
Summary: Don't you just hate it when things just go monumentally wrong?  When Harry screws up the animagus ritual and is stuck in cat form, will his only salvation lie in the arms of the enemy?
1. A Pet For a Dragon

**A/N: **This was written prior to the release of the seventh book. Originally, I'd thought it was stupid of me to have Snape still at Hogwarts, but...eh, goes to show what I know! The story is consequently AU-ish. There is a lot of Blaise/Draco loving to come (like 9 chapters, actually) but this IS a Draco/Harry story, so don't fret. I just haven't written that bit yet. This is still going under revisement and this chapter might see an edit in the near future, but I wanted to get your opinions, too. Plus I'm feeling a bit antsy also.

A Draco OOC warning right here. He gets back to his snooty little self in future chapters, but the first few are a bit of a grind, but I think I've pulled it off well enough. So far there are ten chapters, and should this story prove popular, I might be persuaded to continue writing. I do rather like the concept behind this one. At any rate, let me know what you think and we'll go from there!

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CHAPTER ONE

_A pet for a Dragon_

The door to the corridor burst open with such violence that it rebounded from the wall and nearly swung shut in the face of the livid wraith making its angry way through the portal.

"What the HELL is going on out here?!" it demanded, waves of antipathy rolling off the visage, petrifying the four young boys in their actions.

They stood, frozen in a tableau of guilt, all huddled around a struggling mass among their hunched forms. None dared speak, maintaining the silence as they each looked to the other to respond. Eventually O'Malley, forced by the many urgent glares of his three other mates spoke up.

"Uh, hi Draco, we were just. Um…well, see we found this cat, and we were just playing with it," He muttered. The group quickly moved to further obscure their seniors view. Draco Malfoy glared at each one in turn, the venom in his gaze so potent that it seemed as though their heartbeat's had quietened just to appease the angry youth. Draco stalked closer to the four and in a deadly quiet voice made his approach.

"Not much to ask for - a little peace and quiet to finish my novel. And here you four idiots are, making so much racket with your stupid laughter and screaming that I don't doubt they heard you in the astronomy tower!"

Laying a hand on each of the two closest boy's shoulders, he took a deep breath as if to settle his temper and when he opened his eyes, they flashed briefly, like light reflecting off a knife edge. "Now, tell me, truthfully, what the _BLOODY HELL_ did you think you were doing out here?!" The older Slytherin yelled, hands tightening painfully on the shoulders in his grasp.

The smallest of the four, Samuel Clubb, shrieked in fear and cowered before the him, breaking down into a pathetic mess of sobs and snot, his face seeping from what seemed like every orifice. "I told 'em not to! But they wouldna' listen!" He gripped at Draco's robes, as if here was his only salvation. The other three cried out Samuel's name in frustration with the promise of violence in future for their little crony. Draco shuddered at his touch, roughly pushing the pathetic form away from him and dashed forward to see what the others had so desperately been hiding.

What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. Lying in a shivering pile, a pool of blood shadowing the flagstones beneath it was a black cat, madly trying to scrabble to its feet, one paw hanging at an uncomfortable angle. Its tail was trapped by O'Malley's boot and each of the boys had their wands out. The sight stopped Draco for a moment. His body going entirely still, all visible anger washed from his stiff frame. He turned his piercing stare to each boy in turn; all refusing to look at him, Samuel still sobbing and wiping his face into his sleeve from his position on the floor.

Draco moved towards them, and in the same motion withdrew his wand, pointing it at O'Malley's chest, the clear ring-leader of the little 2nd year gang. All three still standing hurriedly backed up, tripping over one another in their haste. In a voice quiet, deep and deadly, Draco hissed, "Get out of my sight, or I swear to whatever God that happens to be listening that I will curse you to within an inch of your life." Samuel needed no more encouragement, scrambling to the portrait hole, shouting the password at the top of his lungs and falling through once it had swung inward. O'Malley's two other friends soon followed with alacrity, abandoning their leader, who remained, panicked and pinned by the wand directed toward his chest.

Draco bent down, without losing his aim on the boy and scooped the cat into his free arm, its struggles pathetically weak against his chest. "And you," Draco cursed, his voice as menacing as rolling thunder, but as deadly quiet as a whisper. "You…if I ever see you in my sight again, I will make sure you relive all the pain you have ever inflicted on any living being! Now piss off." O'Malley remained; eyes wide in fear. Draco threateningly flicked his wand at the boy and sent him scuttling after his friends with the empty gesture.

He stood momentarily in the hall outside his dormitory, glaring hatefully at the portrait, as though his rage could pierce through the very wall itself. The bundle in his arms gave a soft mewl and drew his attention. With a new sense of resolution he ran to the nearest staff room he could think of.

Snape was shocked to say the least when Malfoy burst into his office and had to stuff the letter he had been absorbed in hastily into the top drawer of his desk. When he saw what he was carrying, he was even more surprised.

"Please, sir, some boys were torturing it! I need to help it, it's hurt real bad! Please, sir, where- how can I fix it?" Malfoy asked, worry creasing his usually emotionless brow, anxiety stiffening every line of his body. It didn't even occur to him that begging was undignified for a Malfoy, foremost in his mind was the cat's wellbeing.

Snape pursed his lips in quick contemplation before rising from his seat. "Follow me, Mr Malfoy, if you will. Ms Grubbly-Plank should be out near Hagrid's shed at this time of day. Come."

It was strange indeed to see Malfoy caring about any other living thing and having known the boy since his childhood, it was intriguing to say the least. Draco trotted behind Snape's swift moving form, being careful not to jostle his passenger.

They reached the doorway to the Entrance Hall and Snape paused, his hand pressed lightly to the wood surface, Draco colliding into his back. The cat gave an anguished cry before becoming silent once again. Draco hissed in sympathy and placed a possessive arm over the still form, careful not to jostle it. Snape turned to the boy who was positively dancing in place with an overwhelming sense of urgency.

"This is very unlike you, Mister Malfoy. Why do you care about this creature?" He questioned, barring Malfoy's path. Draco licked his lips, his shock-widened eyes darting from the cat to the door and to Snape's questioning face. The professor looked on with growing curiosity as Draco averted his gaze, and was silent for so long that he thought the young man wouldn't answer at all.

"Things…early this year…o-over the break," he stuttered and stopped, his eyes turning a stormy grey and a new shudder running the length of his spine. He took a shaky breath before starting again, turning his face to meet eye-to-eye with his mentor and his Godfather. "Torture…nothing, no one deserves to be violated in such a manner. It…I-I can't abide cowards who mangle and torture things, just because they can, because they have the power to. It's low and it's the worst abuse of magic. Please, Professor, just let me help this cat. It's all I can do to…" _make up for my past idiocy…_ Malfoy's cheeks flushed a gentle pink with shame as he fell silent. It wasn't long before he turned his gaze to the cat, avoiding the scrutiny of a man he so well respected, absently and carefully running his fingers through the matted fur.

With a suddenness that surprised Draco, Professor Snape spun on his heel and pushed the door to the grounds open; taking long strides across the dew-laden field to the run-down little hut that had once housed the half-giant.

Professor Grubbly-Plank was standing surrounded by her second-year class, all with a crate beside them, full of the Bow-Truckles that usually inhabited the Forbidden Forest. She stopped mid-sentence as Snape approached and pursed her lips in a serious fashion before walking to meet the pair, and directing them to the hut. "Behave, and look after your Bow-truckles, I'll be back later," she ordered with a stern look thrown over her shoulder.

Malfoy carefully placed the cat on the only available space left on the dusty dining room table and hovered anxiously off to the side as Professor Grubbly-Plank removed her wand from her robes and used it to examine the animal's injuries.

"Hmm," she muttered under her breath.

"What? What's Hmm, mean?" Draco asked worriedly, edging closer to the table, looking at the little black bundle. Professor Grubbly-Plank was leaning in over the small body, her nose an inch from its fur. She looked up briefly at Draco through her eyelashes, before returning her gaze.

"…Where did you get this cat? It's…not…normal. Magical. Very special. Also very hurt," She replied in her usual blunt, monotone fashion.

"Some kids were pestering it; I stopped them…is it going to be alright?" Draco asked his voice taut with anxiety.

"_He_ will be fine," Professor Grubbly-Plank announced with a distracted air. "I can heal the lacerations and some of the external bruising, which makes up most of the injuries, but the broken leg…" the woman sighed and straightened, looking directly at the serious youth in front of her. "His own personal magic will interfere with any deep healing spells. To risk his health on the off-chance that the spell won't backfire is too high. Plus, there seems to be some kind of shifting happening in his magic. That's not normal, even among your average Familiar, but it looks as though that will settle itself out; it's very intriguing…

"I can put his leg in a cast, but I don't have the time to look after this cat. I think it might probably be best to find it a home elsewhere, where it can recover. Right now I'll just clean up the rest and bandage the brave little fellow up. Won't be long, just go wait outside."

Snape placed a guiding hand on Draco's shoulder and steered him outside the hut where the boy collapsed boneless on the stairs, resting his chin in his arms as he stared morosely at the 2nd year class who were taking the brief reprieve to huddle close together around a conjured blue flame that one of the brighter pupils had produced. Winter was swiftly approaching and their breaths came in foggy clouds that hung in the air for a brief moment in time before fading. Draco huddled further into his robes, cursing his absent-mindedness, having left his winter clothes on top of his bed in the Slytherin dorms.

The silence grew between the teacher and his pupil to an uncomfortable, gaping chasm, leaving only enough room for contemplation about summer just gone. The taut atmosphere only became more intense with the passage of time. Draco found himself looking back to the beginning of the year, of the summer spent in captivity, then running and in hiding and the constant, ever-present fear that had plagued him.

"…How is it…why are we back here, Professor? Why aren't we being hunted? How could they just forgive us, and let you back to teach?" Draco mused, disbelief still evident in his voice. He'd been meaning to ask since the day that Severus had apparated in front of him, taking him to his home and telling him he'd be returning to Hogwarts. "A-after what I nearly- what you actually…did? How is it even possible?"

"I'm surprised it took you so long to ask, Draco. It's the side-benefit of being a known double-spy," Snape responded in amusement. "And _Verataserum_. One side sends you back to infiltrate Hogwarts, the other as a sign of clemency – and desperation. Each hoping that you're spying on the other side and providing the correct information to 'advance the cause'.

"Plus, seeing as they're so short-staffed anyone will do, even a convicted felon and known murderer. You will, I don't doubt, have noticed that two-thirds of the student body no longer attend, and the majority of students still here are from Slytherin house, with a few Ravenclaw's and only a very small number of Hufflepuff's. In a very true sense, the Dark Lord has already triumphed over this school…Only the pure-bloods and oldest families are left.

"We only have a few teachers left too. The Dark Lord considers this school a perfect place to raise and train young Death Eaters, and the Ministry think that I can best serve here. After all, there's not much point to a school where there are no students and no one to teach them…"

Draco thought on this for a moment. He would have been a fool not to notice. There were even some new teachers in place that, if not Death Eaters now, would soon become members with almost all the original teaching staff having abandoned the school. McGonagall was still grasping on to her tentative position as Acting Headmaster, and was stubbornly maintaining her role, determined to teach anyone willing to learn. But there was no joy left in Hogwarts, it was all just paranoia and deeply entrenched terror. The students that were here were either the children of Death-Eaters or the prodigy of foolish parents, believing that Hogwarts was still a safe-haven.

"…Why am I here then? Why did I have to come back?" He asked, staring pensively off into the forbidden forest. He heard Professor Snape heave a large sigh before he responded.

"I'm your Godfather, and I am all that you have now…" Snape's voice hitched in his throat and Draco was startled to see his eyes were red-rimmed with suppressed sorrow. At his words it felt as though a dagger was stabbed through his chest when yet again, he was forced to remember that he was now the sole surviving Malfoy.

Having failed the Dark Lord, his parents had been killed. His father cornered in his cell and administered with 'the kiss'; his mother hunted down like an animal and brutally slain before his eyes. His left hand gripped the front of his robes, painfully clenched and he bit down on his lower lip. His chest felt tight, yet oddly hollow, as if someone had reached in and scooped out everything from inside.

"It's my duty to protect you," Snape continued. "And the only way I can do that is with you here. At the moment you're of little interest to any of the concerned parties, so this is, probably for you alone, the safest place in the world to be…" further conversation failed the two and they continued to wait in silence in the frigid air.

After what felt like hours, the door was pushed open, and the Professor came out, carrying her patient in her arms. Draco nearly choked when he saw the cat.

"The minor cuts, bruises and abrasions are gone. Just the slice along the little fellow's ribs and the broken paw to mend and this cat will feel almost as good as new, now, am I taking this cat to Hogsmeade to find a home for it, or what?" She said brusquely addressing the Malfoy heir. The little black cat had his left front paw in an over-white cast and a crisp new bandage circling his chest; lying limply in the Professor's grip.

"I, uh, can I look after it? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, please. I just…I just need to do this," Malfoy asked, turning his pleading gaze to Snape as he spoke who in turn narrowed his eyes at his protégé, gazing at him intently. Professor Grubbly-Plank raised her eyebrows questioningly at Snape who nodded almost imperceptibly. The woman pursed her lips and with some reservations passed over the small form to the 17 year-old, who gently took hold of the cat, keeping him close to his chest while trying not to disturb his paw too much. Summoning a scroll and a self-inking quill, Professor Grubbly-Plank quickly scribbled on the parchment before turning it over to Professor Snape.

"You, make this potion, probably will only need a small vial of the stuff and you, Mister Malfoy, will treat that horrid gash with it once a day before replacing the bandages with fresh ones. Fresh, d'you hear me?" With her wand, she silently summoned a pill bottle to her, before handing it over to Draco. "Give the little fellow one of these pills with his meal – they're antibiotics, makes sure no infection happens. Twice daily. And make sure this cat gets plenty of sleep. Right now, he's got a natural sleep enchantment on him, and that'll wear off in a few hours, but after that, it's all non-magical.

"Don't you dare attempt to fix him with your magic, Mister Malfoy. He won't like you for it and frankly I think I'd probably hurt you worse then you've ever been hurt before. Period. Now bugger off, I have a class to teach." With that, Professor Grubbly-Plank brushed passed the two and began berating her students for not keeping the Bow-truckles properly insulated, as autumn was definitely not their native season, and they acted so much more like twigs when not kept sufficiently warm.

Slightly relieved, Malfoy and Professor Snape made their way back to the castle. They separated outside the door to the Slytherin common room, Snape continuing on down to his dungeon office, Malfoy carefully manoeuvring through the portrait hole. As he spun to face the room, movement at the corner of his eye drew his attention. The retreating backs of the four 2nd years vanished into their dorm room to escape Draco's wrath. He could feel his blood heat even at the thought of what those bastards had done, but mentally exhausted, Draco collapsed onto the chair he'd vacated what felt like days ago, rather than pursue the issue. He picked up the novel that he'd carelessly discarded by the chair and held it above the snoozing cat.

"Oooh, what a cute cat! But what happened to it? Where'd you get it, Dracy?" Pansy Parkinson gushed as she nearly launched herself across the room at Draco's reappearance. Malfoy contained the urge to roll his eyes at the annoying girl and instead chose to ignore her. Not getting the signals, the girl settled herself on the arm of his chair and started massaging her fingers through his immaculate hair. He flinched away from her and glared at her hatefully, "Parkinson, go away, I'm in no mood to deal with you," he admonished flatly. Pansy recoiled away from his sharp words and her lower lip trembled. She forced a smile to her face and apologised in a bare, upset whisper.

Malfoy heaved a sigh and just stared at the girl, who was still standing hunched and uncertain. "Some kids were teasing it, I stopped them, and I got Professor Grubbly-Plank to help fix him up and now I'm really tired, and please, excuse me, I'm going to my room. I'll talk to you later, Pansy."

She just nodded in response, not meeting his eye. Malfoy languidly rose to his feet, book in one hand and the cat in the crook of the other, marched up the stairs to his dorm room. It was blessedly empty with Blaise Zabini most likely off flirting in the corridors and Crabbe and Goyle probably raiding the kitchens or whatever it was they did. Draco climbed onto his bed, drawing the curtains behind him. Depositing the cat on one of his pillows before casting the _Lumos_ spell, he placed his wand in its holster where it could cast the brilliant light over the bed with ease as he settled next to the invalid and picked up his book again.

For all that he tried, the book couldn't hold his attention for long at all and he ended up sinking to lie on the bed and stare at the cat, watching as its chest rose and fell with each breath. He was caught wondering when it would wake up. Tentatively he reached out his hand and gently ran his fingers through the soft, fluffy fur on its crown and down its neck, avoiding the bandaged area. The cat even in sleep began purring and it was the most beautiful and reassuring sound Draco had heard in a while. Lulled by the rhythmic sounds of purring and due to the afternoon's exhaustion, Draco slowly drifted off to sleep, his hand softly cupping the crown of his cat's head.


	2. What's in a Name?

CHAPTER TWO

_What's in a Name?_

When Draco awoke the next morning, his mouth tasting as though something had crawled in there and died, his hair was sticking up in a half crest on one side of his head, his eyes were puffy and his throat felt raw and overused. With a groan, he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it even further and he blinked around in disorientation. He rubbed at his sleep-encrusted eyes with the heel of his palm. It was then he noticed he was still wearing yesterday's robes and it took him a moment to realise why.

Quickly he whipped his head round in a desperate search for the cat that he remembered last being on his pillow. For a moment, he couldn't see it, instead, like some weird imprint; he thought he saw a flash of skin. As he refocused Draco spotted the cat, having slid further down the pillow so only his tail remained elevated by it.

He let the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding go with a relieved sigh and nudged the cat softly. It cracked a brilliant emerald eye at him, before shutting it again and curling further around himself.

From two different spots within the room beyond his curtains, he could hear the twin snores of Crabbe and Goyle reverberate through the air, and Draco could only assume that it was early morning.

"Up, minion," Draco murmured, his voice thick with sleep. Nudging it again with his index finger, the cat opened both eyes to give him a look of pure feline distaste before yawning and stretching, every line in his body announcing that his getting up was of his own choice. Something about the attitude felt familiar and Draco couldn't help but be amused by it.

The little cat stretched as best he could with a broken leg and a bandage encircling his middle, his tail waving in the air with some agitation. "Come on, cat, have to check those bandages," Draco announced with a gesture towards the feline. Unimpressed, the little black cat sat on his haunches and gave a bored yawn and stared at his new owner with disdain, ears twitching and tail still lashing back and forth.

Draco returned the stare with narrowed eyes, but gave up when the cat refused to respond beyond a lazy blink. He looked at his still shut curtains hanging round his bed, scheming. "…If you come and let me check your bandage, I'll give you some fresh fish from the kitchens," he goaded. The cat's ears perked up and he stood in one swift movement, padding across the bedspread to Draco's curled knee, and brushed up against it, rubbing his cheek along the fabric of Draco's pants, mewling sweetly and insistently to be picked up.

Draco obeyed with a barely concealed smirk and carried the cat into the bathroom that was attached to the seventh year's dorm room. Malfoy propped him on the bench below the room-length mirror, the cat stayed surprisingly still, submitting to Draco's ministrations with little more then a resigned air.

Draco carefully peeled the bandage away and inspected the wound. It was healing nicely, already scabbed over, with no sign of weeping or infection, which was surprising considering how serious it had seemed yesterday. "You _are_ a magical cat, I suppose," he muttered, leaning closer for a better look. He jerked back quickly, his nostrils flaring and his face screwing up against the stench, "But by the gods do you stink!" he exclaimed with a cough. The cat turned his head to Draco, his eyes narrowed in indignation. He turned back with his nose held high, pointedly ignoring the boy.

"I'll have to ask Grubbly-Plank when it's safe to bathe you. How will you get all the girls smelling like you do?" Draco left briefly to retrieve the salve that he'd spotted on his nightstand, no doubt delivered by one of the house-elves while he was asleep. Draco rifled through the bathroom cabinets for cotton buds. He carefully read the label, making sure to read all the instructions before turning to the cat…that wasn't where he left him. "Cat? Cat?! Where are you?" Draco demanded spinning around to glare at every corner of the room. He dropped to his hands and knees, peering under the counter, "Hey, I've been looking for that tie!" Draco got to his feet and returned to the dorm room, where he spotted the cat, playing indolently with a dirty rolled sock that was lying next to Goyle's bed.

"Oh you're definitely getting bathed now!" Draco threatened. "No telling where that sock has been, eugh! Disgusting. Honestly, cat, you should have more taste then that." Draco carelessly scooped the cat up causing it to yowl angrily and fix his teeth into the web of Draco's hand who grit his teeth in pain to stop from yelling out and waking his roommates. Draco's temper rising with the cat's antics, he dropped the little black menace back onto the bench without ceremony and pinned it with his piercing trademark glare. The cat meeped and its tail dropped between his legs, his ears flattening to his head and he crouched low, as if to make himself appear more harmless.

Draco tried to maintain eye contact with the cat as he bent to retrieve a wash cloth. He filled the sink with warm water, adding a few drops of lavender oil to the steaming liquid, the fragrance permeating the air and casting a relaxing cloud over the room. Draco soaked the washcloth in the mix, ringing it out to damp before gently running it the length of the cats spine. The little black feline flinched at first, but seemed to rather enjoy the steady pressure of Draco's hand and the warmth rising from the towel. Draco made a few more passes with the cloth before rinsing it in the next sink; watching with surprise at the amount of dried blood and filth that filtered down the sink.

He continued cleaning the cat til only a minimal amount of dirt was picked up by the cloth. He then reread the label on the salve, carefully applying it to the affected region with a cotton bud. Draco opened the medicine cabinet, withdrawing bandages, keeping one hand firmly on the scruff of the cat's neck so he didn't make another break for freedom. He rewrapped the wound and stood back to admire his handy-work. The cat glanced at his reflection in the mirror before turning to Draco and meowing, almost as if in approval. "Thanks cat, wow, you're so much more elegant now you're clean. What's this?" Draco bent to eye level with the cat and stared carefully at his face. Above the left eye was a silver streak of fur that stood in contrast to the sleek midnight hair - the only colour to break up the solid shade. Draco ran a gentle finger down the marking, ruffling the fur. The cat licked his finger once as his human withdrew his hand and walked to the edge of the bench, gently butting Draco to be picked up.

Draco obliged, petting the cat for a while and focusing on the purr that rose in the little body in his arms and reverberated through his chest. Draco shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, allowing the tension to leave his shoulders and let the scent of lavender calm him. "You smell so good now. I'm forever washing you in lavender," Draco said with a contented sigh.

"Mm…can't keep calling you cat…How about Minion? I like it. No? Hmm…well, you've got that very dignified white streak…I know what I'll call you. Streaky! Haha, no, I was just joking. Ow! No need to scratch, fine, not Streaky. Ok, I'll be serious about it…just let me think on it a while, and I'll get you a proper name, are we satisfied? Yes? Good. And with that settled, I now smell almost as bad as you did, though I doubt that's even possible. I'm taking a shower."

He placed the cat on the floor and walked back into the dorm to gather his clothes. The cat followed his steps like a shadow, occasionally attempting to launch an attack on Draco's ankles as he walked back into the bathroom. Draco payed little attention to the cat as he showered, shaved, groomed and went to the toilet and only noticed it once he'd flushed and turned around. The cat was staring at him with his piercing emerald eyes. It was a little disconcerting to say the least.

"Ok, cat, no more watching me performing my morning ablutions."

"Meow!"

"Hungry? Ok, off to the kitchens, yes? Come on."

[center[/center

The next challenge.

"Take the pill, cat. Take it. Come _Ooon_! Just one tiny pill…if you would jus- ugh! ...Take. The. Pill…Take it!"

Draco was sitting on one of the low stools that stood around the long table trying desperately to get the cat to take the pill. "Would you just, just- Arrgh! You are so frustrating!" He yelled with impatience, startling not only the occupants of the room but also himself and he looked about apologetically. "Look, cat, take the pill or I _won't_ get you that fresh fish, it's that simple. It's your choice. Don't make me stuff this down your throat."

The cat grudgingly opened his mouth and allowed Draco to drop the pill onto its tongue. "Funny, cats aren't normally so agreeable," A voice from behind the two stated with an amused air. Draco nearly jumped from his skin, spinning around to face the person who had addressed him.

"Professor Lupin? What- what are you doing here?!" Draco cried in disbelief, eyes wide with shock. He backed up a step and his hand automatically reached for the wand he had hidden in his robes. He held it tightly in his grip, but didn't brandish it.

"Relax, Draco, I'm not here to harm you. I simply came for a meeting with Professor McGonagall," Remus Lupin responded, trying to keep his voice reassuring, maintaining his distance. "I was a bit peckish and there's still some time before I'm supposed to meet her, so I just wandered down for a snack. And it's not Professor anymore, Draco, I haven't held that position in a very long time now."

It looked as though Draco was contemplating running and clearly fighting the urge to run as fast as possible. Remus could understand the fear. Although he knew some of what had happened that disastrous night not six months previous, he couldn't hold any particular grudge against the youth. It was rather disheartening to see such fear screaming from the young man's eyes at his appearance.

Lupin embodied what Draco had been set up to oppose and the physical reminder was clearly having an effect on him, making him appear so much younger and so very vulnerable. Draco's breaths were coming in shallow gasps and it looked as though he might begin to hyperventilate. Lupin quickly changed the subject in an effort to placate the distressed youth. "That's a very strange cat you have there, Mister Malfoy what's it called?"

"…I haven't thought of a name yet. I've only had him less then a day," Draco responded woodenly, his fists clenched to disguise the tremors running along his arm. It took him every ounce of strength to lower his hand clasped tightly over his wand, but somehow he managed it.

"May I?" Lupin enquired, hesitantly moving closer to the cat sitting primly on the table. Draco backed away from the approaching man, keeping an alert eye on his movements. Wearily, Lupin took the seat that Malfoy had vacated and slowly reached out his hand to the cat, which proceeded to sniff his fingertips before moving forward to nuzzle his hand affectionately. On full contact a current of what felt like electricity passed through Lupin's arm and he delved deeper into his own magic in an effort to pinpoint the source. He gasped as he stared into the emerald green eyes before him and he sat mesmerised and confused at the familiarity of those eyes and the overwhelming sense of power emanating from the small beast.

"This certainly is a very unique cat here, Mister Malfoy," Lupin turned to Malfoy and regarded him with calm, tired eyes. "I don't know where this could possibly have come from, or even truly what it is, but I advise you to take care of this cat very well, it may prove to be a very useful ally."

"He."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I-it's a He."

"Oh, do excuse me…Have you given any thought to the name Mister Mistoffelees?" Lupin enquired with a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Draco raised an eyebrow at the older man and remained momentarily silent.

"…Sir?"

"Don't worry Draco, just me being silly in my old age," Lupin mused. "Names really are important things. People truly undervalue the impact that a good or bad name can have on people, but I'm sure you're not one of them." Lupin regarded the youth closely. He was still stretched as tight as an E string, but he was so well composed now it was almost impossible to link the two images with the same person.

"I want…I want to give him a good name, not something stupid like Fluffy or Midnight or Diddykins or something equally moronic like that. He should have a name to suit him. A regal name," Draco said haltingly.

He'd never really liked Professor Lupin. He'd always been taught that werewolves were worse even then Mudblood's, but he was finding it difficult to hate the man. More and more he could see why Potter had always hero-worshipped the teacher, who with only a few simple words and gestures had proven to be one of the most gentle and understanding people Draco could ever remember meeting. Or perhaps that it was because of the events that happened earlier in the year, his illusions had been stripped from him and he was seeing perhaps for the very first time, the man, with no prejudices blinding him.

He still felt uneasy around him, that probably wouldn't change, but it was so nice to be having a simple conversation with someone who wasn't either trying to pander up to him or judge him and find him wanting. But here he was, talking almost composedly with someone who he was always taught to fear, talking about cat names.

Fed up with being ignored, the little black cat stalked up to Draco and mewled directly in his face, his tail flashing madly, pacing frantically up and down between the two humans present.

"Oh, that's right, I promised you fish didn't I?" Draco said, addressing his cat directly. He sighed dramatically, "well, I suppose you _did_ take the pill, so I guess I'll just get them to give you some fish."

Lupin watched on with amusement at the exchange. Draco approached one of the kitchen workers for the food with a muttered, "excuse me."

Checking the time, Lupin slowly gathered himself and rose from the stool. "Well, Draco, it has been rather pleasant, I must admit, talking to you, but I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere at this time. Perhaps I'll see you again sometime, hopefully under much more favourable circumstances," he said, the bittersweet tone evident in his voice. Draco looked up from his cat to his ex-Professor.

"…Thank you, Professor Lupin. For…well, thanks," Draco stuttered, inwardly cursing himself. He never used to stutter and hesitate so much in his speech. It seemed that he still hadn't regained the elegance and meter of his conversation skills and it was making him sound so uncertain that he felt like cringing even listening to himself.

Lupin waved silently to Draco with a gentle smile before exiting, making his way to the Head Mistress's office. Draco kept vigil with his cat, thinking about names, waiting for the black ball of fluff to finish his meal of raw salmon fillet.


	3. Innocent Gifts

CHAPTER THREE 

_Innocent Gifts_

"Oh that's it! That's the last time! _Infragilis necto_! Try taking it off now!" Draco crowed in triumph, smugly beaming at his still unnamed cat. The disgruntled feline squawked and immediately raised his uninjured forepaw to try and manoeuvrer free of the black leather collar that now encircled his neck. No matter how much he tried, it refused to lift over his head even after he'd flopped onto his back with all three working paws pushing at the band agitatedly.

"He he, cat, you look like a pretzel, maybe that's what I should call you since you're _clearly_ not meant for a dignified title!" Draco teased, tickling the cat's ebony stomach, fingers getting lost in the fluff. The cat uncurled from his attempt at freedom and stretched out, enjoying the sensation of his Master's fingers ruffling his fur immeasurably, especially when Draco began drawing figure eights across his belly. He began purring his pleasure, twisting so he could still keep an eye on Draco's face, staring, unblinkingly at the human. Draco could feel the reverberations all up his arm and he smiled down affectionately at the little hairball.

"Oh, Draco, I didn't know you were into that kind of thing!" Blaise exclaimed in a sex-filled drawl as he entered the room. Draco ignored him, but the stupid grin on his face faded. Blaise approached from behind and lazily draped an arm over his shoulder and across his chest, leaning heavily into the blonde and breathing in deeply the clean, crisp and somewhat sharp smell that was Draco Malfoy.

"You know, if you rubbed my belly like that, I'd make _much_ more interesting sounds for your enjoyment, among doing other things," Blaise murmured seductively into Draco's ear, nuzzling at his neck. Draco glared straight ahead, his hand stilled by his side. The cat meowed in discontentment, quickly rolled up onto his feet and stalked off to sulk on one of the pillows at the far side of the bed.

"I am, at this very moment, trying really _really_ hard not to hurt you, Zabini, but I have a very limited amount of patience and you are testing it!" Draco fumed through clenched teeth. Blaise slowly withdrew with a pout that Draco caught from the corner of his eye. He turned to follow the taller boy's movements as he backed off with a shrug. Surrounded by a self-satisfied air and stretching lazily, Blaise gave him a lustful glance.

"Shame," he intoned, throwing himself on his bed, thumbing through a textbook absently. Draco turned his back on him and looked for his cat. That morning the cat had woken him at the crack of dawn by lying on his face, and then refused to have his bandage checked until Draco had petted him for a good half hour. He'd also managed to destroy what little sleep Draco had managed by continuously changing positions next to Draco's head. And since six in the morning, after his bandages had been redressed he'd constantly wander off and start playing with all manner of things, even at one point trying to catch invisible insects on the wall closest to Draco's bed. Now, the cat was playing hiding seek again.

"Argh!" he yelled in frustration.

"What?" Blaise enquired lazily, looking up from his feigned reading.

"The cat, he's run off again."

"Why don't you put a bell on his collar?"

"I think I just might have to…Cat! Where are you!" Draco called, dropping to his knees and peering under his bed. It took him twenty minutes searching before he tracked down the cat. He was sitting perched on the rim of the toilet in the ensuite. Draco looked at the cat. The cat froze and stared back. Time seemed to stop and the atmosphere was so charged it was palpable. Eventually, Draco muttered an awkward apology and waited outside.

A few more minutes past and the cat stalked by, head held high. He leapt onto the bed and curled up. Draco ducked back into the toilet curiously. "Cat…you forgot to flush…"

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The cat glared at Draco. Draco sneered back at him and disrupted the silver bell now hanging off his collar. The bell remained mute and the cat quirked his head to the side questioningly at his Master's antics. "Hey, and watch this," Draco urged excitedly. He pushed back his right sleeve to reveal an almost identical strap encircling his wrist, a silver bell dangling from a chain that wove around and hung from the leather band. He shook his arm experimentally. His bell made no sound.

He withdrew slightly and beckoned with his finger. The bell on the cat's collar began chiming softly and was accompanied by its twin, strapped to Draco's wrist.

"When you hear this bell, it means you have to come find me. I don't want you wandering off anymore where I can't find you. It also lets me know if you're in trouble; it will ring if you're ever in danger, so you'll know when to run, too. It's designed that way so now you can explore the halls without too much trouble. Understood?"

"Malfoy, it's a dumb cat, _why_ are you talking to it?" Blaise demanded with an impatient air, the one-sided conversation having finally broken his nerves. He threw his book down beside him and crossed his arms against his chest with a huff. Draco turned partially and glared at the exotic, _annoying_ boy.

"Well, if it's the only chance at intelligent conversation I'm likely to experience in here, then I don't see the issue. This cat, I'll have you know, is much smarter than you give it credit for. And shouldn't you be in Potions right now?"

"Shouldn't you?" Zabini countered. Draco waved his hand dismissively.

"It took me two hours to get these bells working right. I've already missed the first half of the lesson - I may as well skip the rest. What's your excuse?"

"I had to go to Madam Pomfrey. Seems I've picked up some horrible burning rash on my-"

"Oh, shut up Zabini., I really _don't_ want to know," Draco cut in. Blaise continued on regardless.

"-back. I think someone put some of that horrible itching powder in my robes. You know, from that shop in Diagon…Weasel's Wheezies, or some such. That store run by those two red-headed blood traitors? Anyway, I was there for that, but then we got to talking about medicine, health care and everything, so I asked her to take a look at my - I must say - very impressive equipment."

"Oh that's right, you were thinking about going into healing, weren't you?" Draco asked with mild interest.

"Well, yeah, I am, but I was actually referring to my cock."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I think she got a nosebleed, nearly fainted, too. You know, she's still pretty hot, even for someone of her age."

"Ok, now, shut up."

"Professor Sinistra, though…if I could be raped by any member of staff, I would really want it to be that woman. Total. Betty. Whooee!"

"Yep, that's enough now!"

"Oh, but do you remember that teacher…what was his name…? He was Dark Arts teacher for a bit. Dumb as a post but man, he had a nice arse!"

"Zabini!"

"What?"

"For the love of any god who's listening, will you shut the hell up?" Draco yelled aggrievedly.

Blaise smiled wilfully and sauntered over to where Draco was seated on his bed. His robes flowed around him, swirling as if caught in the wind and he eyes smouldered, drawing the boy further into his gaze. Draco watched on apprehensively.

As Blaise approached, he trailed his long elegant fingers along the bedspread til he reached Draco, and his fingers delicately caressed their way up his arm and to his neck where they teased the pale hairs, eliciting a delighted shiver from the pale beauty. His dark tousled hair framed and shadowed his dark, regal face and he smirked knowingly, wantonly at the young heir.

"But if you want me to own the truth…If I weren't such the gentlemen…" He leaned in close, making Draco tilt his head to keep eye contact. Draco's cheeks heated and his breath came in shallow gasps.

Gently taking Draco's flushed face in hands he lowered his head so that they were only an inch a part, his breath tickling the fine hair of Draco's cheek. Malfoy sat, mesmerised, helpless, anticipatory; his back arched towards the man towering so intimately over him.

"…I would violate you in a second," the taller boy finished and ran his tongue along Malfoy's jaw line in one swift, sensuous movement. Draco's eyes flew wide in shock, stunned from his daze and his arm reflexively came up harshly to smack Zabini upside the head. Blaise yelped and stumbled backwards. His hand flying to the place Draco had hit him. He pouted at the boy with mock anguish crushing his face, giving him the illusion of being much younger, but it wasn't long before his expression turned into a smug, erotic smirk.

"Pervert!" Draco snapped as he angrily wiped his face on his sleeve, his nose scrunched up in disgust and his eyes narrowed, seething.

"Oh, don't! You'll make me blush!" Blaise retorted gaily before running from the room, screaming out for Pansy.

Draco's composure crumbled once he was left alone and he flopped backwards onto his bed. His heart was racing in his chest, but he ignored his discomfort stubbornly and put a hand to his cheek where he could feel the phantom sensation of Blaise's tongue, tingling and burning against his skin. He panted heavily, as though he'd just run a mile.

Forgotten through whole situation, his cat stalked possessively over to Draco and pounced on his chest, circled once and settled in for a nap. Draco poked him roughly in the nose. The cat startled, whiskers twitching and he delicately sneezed over Draco's robes.

"Why didn't you come to my rescue, cat?" He demanded. The feline yawned and curled his tail up to cover his front paws. He gave him an intense half-lidded glare as if to say, _well, it looked like you were having fun_, before shutting his eyes and resuming his sleep.

Draco reached up and ran his hand through his cat's fur and tried to calm his nerves. Sexuality really hadn't been a very important topic in Draco's life, his fate being pre-decided by his parents before him. So he'd never really given any thought to the opposite sex – or his own for that matter. He was neither repulsed nor excited by the girls who his parents had always deemed 'worthy candidates' and he'd never thought of his male school mates as anything other than someone to use or ridicule.

But Blaise…he could set the very sky on fire with lust alone. He was a walking powerhouse of a man and it was difficult not to want to be filled by him, with all his passion and brazen honesty and his unaffected desire for anything he found beautiful or worthwhile. Maybe it was some kind of innate magic, but, though sometimes crude, it was something so uniquely _his_ that it wouldn't fail to attract anyone willing to see the value of it. This was the first time that he'd fully turned on his charms for Draco and he'd lapped it up, desperate, dying. In need of that one person who'd say, I don't hate you, I want you, no matter what you've done, or who you are, I want you...

It was intoxicating and dangerous and so very delicious. Draco considered his sometimes friend momentarily. He would make a great ally, so long as he'd stop trying to tempt him. Draco could use him.

The bell signalling lunch disturbed Malfoy from his reverie, snapping him back to the present. He sat up quickly, spilling the cat from his lap. The feline gave an angry yowl and sank his claws into Draco's thigh. He yelped and pried the cat off him, draping him carelessly over his shoulder as he stormed from the room and made his way to the Great Hall.

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Draco was sat between Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe with Pansy Parkinson facing him and Blaise Zabini seated next to her. The cat was sitting on the table between the plates and unabashedly washing himself in front of all the Slytherins.

Draco had been surprised at the lack of animosity he'd received from his housemates when he'd been forced to return to the school. They'd seemed a bit colder, if that were possible, but otherwise unaffected, even though Malfoy was seriously out of favour with the Dark Lord. Maybe it had something to do with the continued protection that Crabbe and Goyle unquestioningly still provided.

Draco wasn't sure if it was some sense of misplaced loyalty to him or just plain idiocy. He was tempted to vote for the latter, but the thought that it might be out of loyalty was too foreign.

The cat submitted much more readily to his pill this time, predicting Malfoy's reaction and simply opening his jaw for him. With the pill diligently swallowed, Draco immediately provided the fur ball with fish that had appeared for him as a reward and had a saucer of water close by as well. The young Malfoy picked at his own food and stared at the Gryffindor table, made conspicuous by its complete absence of any students. It was funny, thinking about it now. How much he'd relied on the stupid Gryffindork's to fill his day as someone to focus his animosity and quick wit on. Someone to liven the day and make classes worth attending and not the dry, stale events they were now.

There really wasn't any sport in picking on Hufflepuff's who usually just apologised for offending and it was completely pointless to try it with the Ravenclaw's who simply were too snooty to get involved. The Gryffindors - those proud, brazen, Gryffindor's - _always_ fought back, ready to stand up and defend their honour and their friends. And now, not one single student remained…to say it was odd would be an understatement. And where was the most infamous of them all? Where was the Golden Boy, the proud and illustrious Boy-who-lived, Harry Potter?

He'd not appeared once at Hogwarts, and only every occasionally in the wizarding newspapers after foiling some minor plot hatched by the Dark Lord. Draco found his absence unsettling to say the least, but was at the same time glad. He didn't know what Harry would do if he ever saw him, knowing full well that Harry would blame him for the Headmaster's death. And it was his fault - he couldn't deny that, and he couldn't help fearing the retribution that he owed. He knew that he deserved the enmity of the entire wizarding community but at the same time, some deep part of him desperately was looking for salvation, uselessly hoping that the day would never have to come where he'd have to pay for his childish stupidity.

Having Potter gone made this eventuality more certain. If he'd been here…Malfoy could have pretended that it had never happened. That the Headmaster had just passed on from old age. And he'd be there, still carelessly slinging insults at the raven-haired boy who'd always, always risen to meet his challenge, green eyes flashing with fire.

Draco looked down at the cat that was now attempting to crawl into his lap. The cat returned the look, licking at his whiskers. Gently the cat reached up and pawed clawlessly at Malfoy's cheek, as if in a gesture of comfort. Draco bent lower, his nose against the cats and he stared into those large green orbs. A careful finger trailed the silver streak that ran from his left eyelid to bury deep in the fur between his ears. Draco wrapped his arms around the cat loosely and breathed in heavily. The lingering smell of lavender mixed with fish immediately calming him.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" a voice behind Draco called. He jumped, the familiarity of the situation struck him and he looked behind him to the weathered man that stood, smiling gently down at him. The rest of the table looked at Remus Lupin with natural-born suspicion and mistrust, conversation dulling. Malfoy found that he had to resist the urge to return the smile, fighting to keep up his normal cold façade.

"Not yet," he replied hesitantly. Remus broke eye contact, searching his robes. He pulled out a battered looking book and smiled at it fondly before holding out to Malfoy.

"Here," he offered. "I remembered I had this lying around, thought you might be interested. It's a names book. I thought it could be useful to you."

"Oh, th-thank you, Professor," Draco stuttered, surprised and highly embarrassed that Lupin chose to present this to him in front of his whole house, but he couldn't find the nerve to refuse the offering. Lupin smiled mysteriously and bowed before retreating, startling everyone.

"He's not teaching here again, now is he?" Theodore Nott cried with distaste twisting his face. Draco said nothing and focused on the book. The pages were old and worn and looked as though they'd been through hell and back, but it was still whole and clearly much treasured. With careful fingers Draco opened the front cover. On the inside, there was very faint writing, almost lost with age and water damage, but he could just make it out if he squinted.

It read, "Property of Lily Evans". Draco's head snapped up and he looked around for Lupin, but he'd already left the hall. It was a strange thing indeed to receive a gift from a perceived enemy, though he didn't feel any threat in the gesture. Moreover, while he knew Lupin wasn't rich, the way he'd carefully, almost lovingly handled the book told him it wasn't just something he'd picked up in a second hand book store. Bemused, Draco flipped a few pages before coming across a heart with two initials above and below it: LE loves JP. Growing suspicion filled him and he began a feverish scan of each page for anymore clues. Then he came to one particular section, one page that stopped his breath in his throat. Someone had highlighted a name and drawn an asterisk next to it in faded pink ink. And after that name they'd added another.

_Harry: (Old English) Ruler of an Army._

Harry Potter. Draco's blood ran cold and he stared at the names unseeing. He felt it like an omen, and his insides seemed to freeze with dread. Lupin, with his gentle smiles, his reassuring words and seemingly kind intentions…Was this some kind of cruel revenge, or was it a warning, a threat?

Harry, Ruler of an army. _He's coming, and he's coming for me._

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	4. All Too Much

CHAPTER FOUR 

_All too much_

Draco refused to go to classes for the better part of the day and instead spent it huddled on his bed with the curtains drawn; spelled shut and sound proof as he let the full force of the panic envelope him. He had both fists clasped in his hair and he continued to talk to himself in a hysteria-filled voice. The desperation had him immobilised and wishing, really wishing that he'd never made it through the summer. Death by Voldemort's hands would have been a mercy indeed, compared to the terror he was now facing. The Golden Boy, the boy the entire world worshipped was coming and he must want his revenge.

Draco drew his knees up to his chest and stared blankly into the comforting darkness of his curtains, ignorant of the time flowing past him. He was sat there for a good while, his thoughts running around one another in an endless cycle of panic. There had to be a way that he could save himself, there had to be something! Unwillingly, and for the several hundredth time Draco's eyes slowly turned to the innocent-seeming book so thoughtfully given.

Hesitantly, reaching out with a trembling hand he picked it up and thumbed through it to the page he was looking for. There it was - his name, Harry Potter. Such an innocent, ordinary, _plain _sounding name – he'd always despised it for its mediocrity. Good wizarding names had history and status, not something so bland and common. But its meaning had truly shocked him; ruler of an army, indeed. "Hmph."

Draco didn't need to look for his own name to know its meaning. Like his name, he always felt that he presented who he was upfront. He was a pureblood of a long lineage, proud, strong and dangerous; named for arguably the most powerful magical beings the world had ever seen. And here he was, cowering, almost mindless with fear from the unseen approach of his childhood nemesis.

"My god, this is pathetic - I have to do something! I can't let him kill me, I _have_ to overcome this. I'm a Malfoy, a Slytherin. I'm nothing if not resourceful…I can figure this out. I have to – I have to…I have to talk to Blaise!"

Lit by the fires of hope, he leapt from his bed, throwing aside the curtains and racing into the common room. It stood empty, deserted. Malfoy checked the clock above the mantle. Right now he was supposed to be in his Ancient Runes class, however it was due to end soon. He couldn't talk to him at dinner with so many keen eavesdroppers among the Slytherin ranks; he'd have to get him alone.

"Where is Blaise now…? Damn!" Draco barrelled out of the room and bolted down the corridor determined to check each and every class til he found him. He skidded and almost fell as he rounded the corner, but couldn't stop himself when Snape suddenly stepped from his office, colliding with a high pitched scream into the imposing man, and falling backwards onto the cold flagstones, breathless and embarrassed.

"Really, Draco, running in the halls? I'm surprised at you," Professor Snape admonished as he straightened, glaring at the wayward youth with a sneer. Draco immediately and ungainly scrambled to his feet, dusting off his robes he muttered an apology, running a hand through his tousled hair as he attempted to catch his breath.

"It's a good thing I, ah, ran into you, or rather the opposite, actually," Professor Snape said, arms crossed against his chest. "I've been informed that you're missing your lesson with Professor Babbling and given your recent absence from my own class, I've taken it upon myself to enquire of you just exactly what it is you hope to accomplish by such flippancy. It's highly out of character for you, Mister Malfoy. So, if you would indulge me…" Snape offered with a gesture, looking ready to humour whatever cock-and-bull story his Godson was likely to invent.

"I-uh – I, that is to say," Draco stood tongue-tied. He stared up at his teacher, weighing up his options, considering the safety in confiding to the man. There was little that Draco could do on his own as he'd found out and he had learned the value in asking for help. No more mistakes were going to happen because he was too proud, stubborn and too stupid. He'd work this out, but he was determined to do it well-informed and only with as much or as little interference as was necessary. Draco took a calming breath and looked at the man with new eyes. "I need to find Blaise, it's really important," he finished, hoping that he wouldn't ask questions beyond that.

Snape raised an eyebrow, his mouth caught in a distrusting frown. "That still does not explain your absences. I can forgive when you miss other classes _except_ for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Draco, you have talent and I will not see you throw that away. Now, I want an explanation or I may be forced to discipline you accordingly," Snape warned, his voice growing in intensity.

Draco sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. Fine. The truth, "I had stomach cramps before I got to your class and I'd meant to go to the infirmary, but the dorm is much closer and I figured if I just lay down, they'd go away. I think I must have fallen asleep, because the next time I looked at the clock, your class was almost over." The truth? Yeah, right. Not bloody likely.

Snape considered it for a moment, but seemed to accept his excuse. "And now? Another bout of cramps?"

Draco froze, unsure. He hadn't thought that far. At that moment, the bell on his wrist gave a light jingle and he looked up in shock. "My cat!" He cried and looked frantically about him.

"What about your cat, Mister Malfoy?" Snape demanded, his patience nearing the end of its tether.

"I – it went missing, I've been trying to find it. It's still not all well from the injuries. I have to find him!" Draco turned to race back to the dormitory, but Snape's voice stopped him.

"And _what_ may I ask, has this got to do with Mister Zabini?" Snape glared. Malfoy turned to face his teacher, his face a picture of confusion and misery.

"I…don't know, but it does. I have to find my cat, Professor, please. I promise I'll go to my last class today and I will not miss another Potions class unless I'm really, really sick, just…Please, Sir," Draco begged. _Again with the begging_, he cursed himself.

At that moment, the ringing became louder, then dual toned and before Snape could say a word, a black flash darted past his vision and launched directly at the boy. The cat leapt into Draco's arms shaking and hissing in fear. Draco wrapped his arms tightly around it and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Thank the gods for small miracles.

"It went that way!" someone cried, rounding the corner. It was O'Malley and he had his wand out. His two other friends ran up behind him, almost colliding and froze with fear when they saw Draco and the Head of Slytherin House standing in the hall.

"You!" Draco hissed, eyes narrowed angrily at the boys. His hand immediately reached for his wand and he held it, pointed at the three, arm trembling with the strain from not firing off a spell with Snape present.

Snape looked from the irate teen to the three cowering students at the other end of the hall. He heaved a sigh.

"More Slytherin's outside of classes…This is completely unacceptable. You three - detention every night for two weeks, now return to class before I am forced to consider a more creative punishment," he snapped. The three others needed no further prompting and ran.

Snape turned his gaze to the youth who was still fuming, jaw clenched and anger sparking in his eyes. "Mister Malfoy, I want you to take the twenty minute break to calm down. You are then to go to you Transfiguration class as normal. I won't hear of you being absent from any more classes unless you're on death's door. Is that understood?"

"Yes Professor, thank you," Draco managed, regaining his composure.

"Also, Mister Malfoy…Detention in the Potions lab this evening after dinner, you'll be cleaning all the equipment manually. _Without_ the use of your wand."

Draco nodded, calmly turning on his heel and returned to his dorm, the cat firmly tucked in his arms.

"Ok cat, you're not leaving me until your wounds are completely healed, _including_ your paw." The feline didn't look as though he was about to abandon the boy anytime soon, curling into his lap. Draco settled back onto his bed and picked up the names book. Talking to Blaise would have to wait, and there really wasn't much else he could do until then. In the meantime, he flipped idly through the pages as if looking for clues, some hint of what was in store.

Every now and then he'd stop on a page that would have a name underlined or circled. Most were rather ordinary, very simple names but there was one that stood out. He looked down at the cat in his lap and reread the name highlighted in green. A smile curled his lips and he gently stroked the silver streak that ran through the hair on his cat's forehead.

Draco checked the time on the wall and gathered the cat in his arms and headed off for Transfiguration.

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The classroom stood empty when Draco had arrived. He found a spot at the back of the classroom in the far corner and huddled into his seat, his cat curled up on the table on top of his textbook, waiting for the rest of the class to arrive.

Professor McGonagall strode into the room briskly and took her place at the front of the classroom, organising her books. The students began to trickle in soon after and Crabbe and Goyle took up station beside their friend. Draco didn't acknowledge them, but that had never fazed them before. It was rather amusing that McGonagall let them sit in on the class at all seeing as they weren't enrolled in it. But they made little noise and seemed to disturb no one, so she allowed it. It just went to show that the old crone wasn't a complete bitch, but it made him wonder why she let them.

Once all members of the class had arrived, Professor McGonagall looked up and around at her class before beginning the lesson. Draco almost immediately zoned her out and stared absently at his page, pretending to scribble notes. She was going on about something resonance, but he had little time to consider her lecture. The lesson today was all theory and all too tiresome for Draco to focus on. About halfway through the class he was distracted from his idle musings by McGonagall calling his name.

"Mr Malfoy, kindly repeat back to me what I just said," she quipped, her tone short and to the point.

"Oh, uh, excuse me, Professor, I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention," he replied meekly, trying to maintain an unaffected air.

"Malfoy, you will be assigned extra homework tonight to be handed in on Thursday's lesson. You are to revise chapters six through eight and write a report on Dopplegginger's Theory on anomalies in imperfect transfiguration. You will also be writing an accompanying essay on the benefits of _paying attention_ in class, Mr Malfoy. I trust I won't need to repeat myself? Now if you will kindly attend to the remainder of the lesson," McGonagall ordered with a gesture. The other students were watching on with smirks plastered to their faces and he could hear a few sniggers among his fellow students.

"Yes, professor, my apologies," he replied politely. _You old bag!_ He straightened his back and focused forward, but it wasn't long before his eyes glazed over and his note-taking became mechanical and automated. He'd have to review his notes later on and see if he'd written anything worthwhile.

Throughout the lesson, the cat had remained quietly poised on Draco's desk, his ear's twitching occasionally and his bright green eyes focused intently on Professor McGonagall as she had paced behind her desk and illustrated her lesson to the class as though she were a great big glittering beetle.

It was a small mercy when the lesson ended and Draco hurriedly stuffed his materials into his bag, finally looking forward to more time to just think and not worry about stupid classes. It also gave him the opportunity to track down Zabini who should have been out of his Muggle Studies class. Lord knew why he took it; Draco couldn't fathom the reasoning behind it.

Draco hurriedly paced the length of the halls, desperately searching for Blaise who'd chosen this moment it seemed, to be impossible to find. As the shadow's got longer and his stomach began growling Draco decided to leave it til after dinner to talk to the elusive boy. He adjusted his path and headed to the Great Hall.

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Blaise didn't appear at dinner and Draco was beginning to feel the panic talking hold again. His knee jittered uncontrollably under the table and it took every ounce of willpower not to start chewing his fingernails. His mother had gone to great effort to break him of that habit and he'd be damned if he'd do something that grotesque if he could help it.

It was worrying, but it wasn't unusual for Blaise to simply just not be there. He'd been barely a blip on the Slytherin hierarchy and social scene at the beginning; only showing up when something fun seemed likely to happen. But it was just so a-_fucking_-typical of him to be absent the moment Draco needed to find him. Malfoy ate, barely taking notice of the fine food provided before dazedly climbing to his feet.

Snape walked up behind him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, ignoring the boy's flinch. "Detention, Mister Malfoy," He reminded his pupil who in turn sneered, but nodded silently. He beckoned for his cat to follow who stood up and leapt lightly to the floor, taking care with his front paw.

The three made their way down to the dungeons and Draco got started at the wash-up sink. He despised washing up cauldrons above all other menial duties. Even cleaning the toilets would have been better – the smell would have been an improvement on the Potion's lab – especially one just vacated by the first year class. They so often messed up their recipes, or had flames too hot, resulting in burnt potions which usually left a black residue at the bottom of the cauldrons that refused to budge even with magic spells to remove them. And doing it manually was a torture on his arms. Snape had left a half-hour ago, but had promised to return shortly. Draco's cat was napping on Snape's desk and Draco was cursing his luck, furiously scrubbing at one particularly nasty stain that would not budge.

"Cleaning cauldrons….Servant's work…! Ugh, what is that? This is _soo_ beneath me. I'm a Malfoy for god's sake!" he muttered under his breath. He continued on in a similar thread until he heard the door open and Snape had returned, falling silent. The tall man walked past his Godson with no acknowledgement and sat at his desk, hands gently clasped in his lap as he gazed absently at Draco's progress. He was somewhat surprised when the black cat uncurled and sat on the edge of the desk facing him and stared unmoving at him. It was highly disconcerting and his attempt to meet the stare only lasted a few moments before he coughed awkwardly and reached for some scrolls in need of marking.

The evening passed on in relative silence, bar the sounds of Draco's feverish scrubbing and the gentle scratching of Snape's quill against parchment. After what felt like hours, Draco finally put down the scrubbing brush and ran his filthy hands down his robes and wiped a sleeve across his forehead to clean up the sweat and he approached Snape's desk, his arms trembling from the effort, eyes narrowed and eyebrows lowered in an angry frown. His jaw clenched, Draco waited patiently for Snape to acknowledge him. He'd done this song and dance many times before and knew when to keep silent after so many years.

Snape was absently stroking the cat as he read through the current assignment. Once he'd finished the paragraph he finally looked up at Malfoy.

"Draco, before you go…I must warn you not to become too focused on looking after this cat or too attached," Snape remarked, a thoughtful expression furrowing his brow. "You of all people know what kind of world we live in. It does not do to form attachments to lives so fleeting."

Draco smirked. "I'm a Malfoy, Professor. The last one. In this world, there's nothing fixed or permanent - including us. You're right, I am very aware of how…fragile existence is. I wouldn't invest time in something I didn't think was worth it. I won't get attached to the cat, you can trust me on that," Draco replied with a half smile even as his heart seemed to die in his chest.

Draco crooked his finger toward the cat and the bells tingled in symphony. The cat perked its ears up, turned and dropped from the table, pacing to Draco's heel. Draco looked up from the cat to his teacher. "Goodnight, sir," he said. Snape responded with a simple incline of his head and Draco turned and left the room.

He made his way down the hall and immediately went through the portal to the Slytherin common room and darted into his bedroom, grabbing some fresh clothes. He spent almost an hour in the shower scrubbing every inch of his body and he washed his hair twice, desperate to rid himself of the chemical smell that had clung to him ever since he'd entered the potions lab. He was sure that cleaning the cauldrons bare-handed was a dangerous activity and he'd gladly never repeat the exercise.

As he stepped from the shower the steam billowed out around him in a warm rush. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand back through his hair. Draco grabbed the towel from where he'd hung it on the floor and wrapped it round his waist. Rivulets of water trickled down his neck, bare chest and back, leaving trails of coldness that made him shiver and Goosebumps rise. He leaned back up against the shower and just indulged in the sensation of the heat lamps warmth touching his naked skin even as the water continued to make icy trails down his spine. He passed a hand over his face, removing any lingering beads of water and just breathed like it was the only thing he could do in that moment.

Draco glared down at his left arm, the skin ivory and unblemished but for the livid red mark that defiled the perfect skin of his inner forearm. He traced the lines of fresh pink scars that littered the mark, tearing through it, criss-crossing over it, but never disguising the horrible visage. Among Slytherin house, he was one of the few that bore the mark, and it had secured him safety, but he kept it hidden at all times, taking to wearing a fitted bandage over it, even in his most private hours. He couldn't bear to look upon the mark that had been inflicted upon him – that he had submitted to being branded with. The mark his father was so proud to pass on; the family legacy. Servant to the Dark Lord for all eternity – a future without a life.

Draco let his arm drop limply by his side and he stared ahead for a moment longer, trying to let the steam fog his mind, desperate to wipe his memory clean. Finally, the young heir began the process of mopping the last remnants of water from his narrow frame.

Once dry, Draco pulled on a grey singlet top with the Slytherin symbol embroidered over the left breast and black satin pyjama pants. He quickly ran a comb through his damp hair. It was getting a little long, the tips now level with his chin and he'd probably need a trim before too long.

He gazed at his reflection in the mirror and momentarily wondered what he'd look like with long hair – probably like his father. Even though he had his father's eyes and colouring, his face was much softer, much more like his mother. His mouth quirked in a half-smile and Draco examined each feature, his fingers delicately tracing the curve of his cheek, his nose, brow, jaw and lips as if savouring every angle, caressing each familiar curve.

"Hn…the last Malfoy…" He muttered aloud with a humourless laugh. In his face he could see both his parents staring back at him. His father's cold, unrelenting eyes, his mother's wilful, proud mouth. In every angle, every aspect of his being, he could see his parents, and the images that had haunted his dreams since that last summer came back, startlingly vivid to his mind. He could see it, as though for the first time the cold, deadness that had invaded his mother's eyes. How her skin had looked like porcelain, stark in contrast to the heavy red that had surrounded her still form. He could still see the haggard, insane and desperate visage of his father as he'd watched as death had approached him.

Everything that day, the stress, the panic, the pain began to overwhelm him and he couldn't stop the flood of emotions that followed.

His eyelids quivered and a spasm went through his body, like lightening shooting up from his gut along his spine and he collapsed to his knees. Breathless and out of control, Draco sobbed soundlessly, the intensity violently wracking his body. He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, and listened to the shuddering breaths and the anguish and the thoughts that had constantly circled his head over the summer that came flooding back.

"_Your fault, all your fault…it's because of you. All because of you and your weakness…you stupid, hateful, cowardly, _mistake!_…It should have been you. You! It's all your fault! It should have been you! You're obscene, disgusting. WEAK…! All. Your. Fault!"_

He lay there prone for a while whispering to himself, tears dripping from his face and drenching his hands. "…your fault…your fault…"


	5. Collapse

CHAPTER FIVE 

_Collapse_

It had been hours and at some point Draco had fallen unconscious, lying prone on the tiles. He awoke to the sound of his name being yelled and frantic banging at the door. He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on nothing. He was curled around himself in the foetal position and the knocking on the door was not going away.

He stayed where he was, too exhausted, too drained to move or care. He let his eyes close and he tried his best to ignore the yells and pounding from the other side of the door.

"[iAlohamora![/i"

The door burst open and there was a quick intake of breath then his name hissed out in a whisper. "Draco, oh honey, what the hell?" Blaise slammed the door shut in the faces of the curious inhabitants of their dorm and knelt down next to the unmoving figure of his roommate. He quickly checked his breathing before daring even to touch him. Blaise checked for any visible injuries and lightly placed his palm on the alabaster skin of Draco's shoulder and shook him lightly. Draco turned to look back at the boy next to him, mute, he blinked lethargically and stared in confusion at the look of true worry on Blaise's face.

"Merlin's beard, Draco, what the hell is going on? Your cat's out there scratching up the place, he's been trying to get to you for no one knows how long and here you are collapsed on the floor! Are you ok?!" Blaise whispered in a tight, anxious voice.

Draco rolled over slightly to look at Blaise more fully. Groggily he said, "You…you care?"

"I care?! Of course I care you, bloody great snobbish, pompous, egotistical, selfish _ENGLISH_ prat! What's _wrong_?!" Blaise screamed in response throwing his hands into the air. Draco pushed himself slowly upward, supported by his right arm. He rubbed his head with his left and looked about disoriented.

"I...I'm sorry…to make you worry," he looked up at Blaise whose face looked vulnerable, open and unashamedly afraid for his friend. It was one of a very few genuine expressions that Draco had ever seen the other display. Groggily he reached out and gently brushed Blaise's cheek affectionately. "I couldn't find you…I was looking for you." Draco's thoughts were coming back slowly like treacle and his body seemed to move independent of him, reacting to the shock and exhaustion with very little consultation from his brain.

"Oh hell, Malfoy, I'm not that hard to find! You can't be upset by just that," Blaise reasoned. Malfoy's hand slipped from his face and he leaned forward into the kneeling boy, wrapping his arms around his waist, drawing himself into Blaise's lap. The other hesitantly returned the embrace, all the while wondering where the hell this was all coming from.

"I'm in trouble…more so than usual, if you can believe it," Draco muttered into Blaise's stomach, a hint of the old Malfoy sarcasm returning to his weakened voice. "I went looking for you because you're the only one who I think can help me…Then the guys that beat up my cat appeared, and I got detention with Snape cleaning cauldrons all night and then I got extra homework from McGonagall for not paying attention in class. I couldn't focus… Then…I saw my parents, Blaise. I saw them!"

Malfoy drew back slightly without loosening his grip and looked desperately into Blaise's eyes as he watched on with concern. "They were there, staring back at me in the mirror, looking out of my eyes. It's just…too much. I need your help, Blaise, please!"

The taller boy ran a comforting hand through Draco's hair and pulled him further into his lap. "I'll help you anyway I can, Draco, but I don't see how I'm going to be any help. Honestly, the only thing I excel at is Herbology and flirting. And I don't see how either of those are going to help you out with whatever's going on."

Draco remained silent for so long that Blaise began to think that he'd fallen asleep, but finally Draco withdrew from him and climbed to his feet. He took a steadying breath and walked over to the mirror and inspected his much worn appearance. Draco ran the faucet and splashed his face with water, drying it off on his discarded towel. He leaned on the counter and continued to study his reflection for a moment longer before straightening and turned to face Blaise directly.

"Your particular…talents…I need you to teach me how to do the same thing you do. I need your persuasive skills. You have so much charisma and influence that you could convince a Sphinx that it's a common garden-variety cat. You can get almost anyone to let you take them and they'll come away thinking that it was their idea…

"I'm not as smart or powerful or as talented as people make me out to be, and I don't have a vast wealth of luck like Potter, so I need something to give me an edge over him. I need you to teach me how to persuade people like you do!"

Blaise stared at Draco disbelievingly. Silence rang out as Draco appealed to Blaise with his eyes large and liquid, desperation in every line of his body.

"That..." Blaise started. "Is the most illogical thing I have _ever_ heard. How is flirting supposed to stop you from getting dead?"

"No, no, no! It's not about flirting, but influencing, changing people's minds, even for just a brief second…" Draco paused and stared with bewilderment at Zabini. "Now, please, don't take this as a compliment, because your ego is big enough as it is, but…you don't realise how incredible you are, do you?"

Blaise blinked, letting what Draco said sink in, his cheeks blushing faintly. "What do you mean?"

"You remember during the Tri-Wizard, when you had that crush on that Durmstrang student?"

"Damn, he was hot!"

"And he was a complete homophobe, didn't even take kindly to a tap on the shoulder by another male student. But you, by the end of the trip, you had him over your knee and doing all manner of different tricks. As I recall, you kept photos. You convinced this guy that he wanted you!"

Blaise smiled in remembrance, savouring the mental images it conjured. "Oh, I didn't need to convince him very much. Everyone wants me, they just don't know it yet," Blaise replied with a smirk.

"See that's it! That attitude, the sure knowledge that people won't be able to resist you! I need you to teach me how you do it, so I can have just that split second for Potter to not want to kill me!" Draco cried with urgency. Blaise looked at him askance and weighed the benefits to helping the shorter Slytherin. An evil grin spread across his face as he thought of all the possibilities.

"Ok, but you have to do _everything_ I say, got it?" Blaise demanded with a gleam. He held out his right hand to Draco.

"Oh Merlin, what am I getting myself into?" Draco muttered, dread looming over him. "Ok, deal." He took Blaise's hand and shook it firmly. This was his chance. It definitely wasn't a smart, well-thought out or strong measure and with time, he could probably find a better way, but right at this moment, his best hope was a crash course in seduction.

Lord help us all.

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Shortly afterwards, once Blaise had Draco's assurance that he was ok, he booted him from the bathroom and Draco was caught in the twin stares of Crabbe and Goyle. They stood together in a nervous huddle, with worry creasing their simple faces.

"What?" Draco snapped at them. Hesitantly, Crabbe stepped a little forward.

"Are you ok, Draco?" He grunted. Goyle nodded and looked on with an unsure expression on his face. Draco looked at the two carefully.

"I'm absolutely fine, thanks. I just need to get rest now, so if you two would stop gawping, I'm going to bed!"

The two, despite his harsh words look relieved and they trotted back to their respective beds. Theodore Nott, their other roommate was already asleep half-hanging out and whimpering slightly as he dreamed. Draco climbed onto his own and looked about for his cat. The cat was sitting sulkily in the corner by the door to the common room, tail lashing as he washed himself, licking at his chest.

Draco turned away, reached under his bed for one of the many spell books he had stacked underneath and flipped to the index. He quickly found the spell he was looking for and turned to the correct page. It was a pretty simple spell and only required one item to work properly.

Although he was tired, he wanted to do this now because he might not get a chance tomorrow with it being Wednesday and he had a mountain of homework due in the day after. So now was his best opportunity.

Draco rifled through his drawer and came out with a silver bracelet that his Mother had given him before drawing the blinds around him. The chain was made of twining silver snakes with eyes inlaid with alternating amethyst and emeralds. His hand jittered slightly as he looked at it and he shook his head as if to clear the memory away. It was just a remnant of the past, a token from someone now dead.

Taking his wand from the holster on his bed he pointed it at the bracelet. "_Argentum appello nota!_" Draco recited in a low voice. A spark leapt from his wand and hit the bracelet, making it convulse on his palm. It seemed to melt all together and reform as Draco watched and when the sparks disappeared and the object remained still he took a good look at it, flipping it over in his hand.

The bracelet had formed into one solid mass. It was teardrop in shape and domed out on one side. The emeralds and amethysts glinted from the surface in a stardust pattern and the silver was smooth and polished to a high shine. On the back there was an inscription and Draco squinted to read it in the half-light. It had worked! Of course it worked, but it seemed the only thing going well in his life was his magic, which appeared to be improving and it gave him a fierce pride when things turned out well.

Draco threw open the drapes and climbed out of bed. The curtains around both Crabbe and Goyle's beds were shut against the moonlight, Theordore had slid further out of bed, his fingers brushing the floor and neck hanging over the side. Draco quietly approached his sulking cat and swooped it up into his arms. The cat scratched at his bare forearms and hissed in annoyance, scrabbling to get free of the boy. Draco ignored him and climbed into bed with the struggling cat. He twitched his curtains shut behind him with his wand and lit it with _lumos_. He then dumped the grumpy cat onto his bed sheets. The cat yowled and glared at his Master, in no mood to humour him tonight.

"Look, I got you a present," Draco whispered. The feline's ears pricked up at the word 'present' and he picked himself up and paced over to Draco, looking up at him expectantly, his nose furiously working to scent for any food the boy might have. Draco grabbed the collar around his neck and attached a silver pendant to it.

"You're mine now, cat and I get to name you. See, it's written on the pendant. I hope you like the name. Too bad if you don't, but I like it," Draco reached out through his curtains and pulled in the hand mirror he habitually left on his bedside table. He held it up for the cat to admire his new accessory. The cat looked at the mirror apprehensively before batting at his own reflection with his uninjured paw. Draco stifled a snigger and replaced the mirror.

Taking his wand in hand he lightly tapped it on the shoulders and head of the little black cat. "I dub thee, Taliesin," he intoned with a smirk and a yawn. Draco stared at the cat for a moment, who appeared to be thinking the name over before he snuffed the light on his wand and returned it to the holster. He then tucked his legs under the blanket and made himself comfortable.

The newly named Taliesin stalked up to Draco's spare pillow and flopped down, curling his tail underneath his nose. His master sleepily reached up and scratched him behind his ears, eliciting a soft pur.

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The next day, Draco woke up groggy and with a dead arm. At some point Taliesin had sprawled over it and remained there all night, cutting off the circulation. After rolling out of bed, Draco drowsily changed into his school robes. Through breakfast, Goyle had to keep nudging him so he didn't fall asleep face first into his porridge.

Throughout the day he managed to arrive at classes on time, pay attention and even take notes without too much distraction. First up he had Ancient Runes with Professor Babbling, followed by a short practical lesson of Charms, then lunch. Blaise had disappeared yet again and Draco ended up spending his lunch break watching Crabbe and Goyle bicker over a cupcake. Taliesin followed him into transfiguration, but deserted him for McGonagall's desk.

The professor looked surprised for a moment and directed her attention to the class. "Whose cat is this?" She enquired. Taliesin approached her and meowed, demanding attention. There were giggles from other class members and McGonagall pursed her lips in a frown.

"He's mine," Draco admitted raising his hand. McGonagall directed her gaze to him and her frown deepened. The other students looked shocked and began whispering. Draco had only ever had his eagle-owl as a pet. Which admittedly wasn't a very good one with its tendency to try and rip open whichever branch – or arm it happened to be perched upon.

McGonagall couldn't really deny Taliesin's presence as many of the other students had their pets with them so she only glared for a moment longer before starting the lesson. They were working on transfiguring a bell into a working clock. There was a high level of difficulty in the task and most people only managed to get the shape right, but couldn't get theirs to tick. Malfoy wasn't doing much better and he couldn't help but think of that muggle-born Granger. He could almost imagine the scene of her presenting a working clock to McGonagall with pride and he and Crabbe and Goyle would sneer and make fun of her and she'd walk past them with her nose stuck in the air. And he'd stick out his foot to trip her. School really wasn't any fun with no one to bully.

By the end of the lesson, Malfoy had produced a clock that seemed to work, but still refused to tick. He took it up to McGonagall's desk anyway and had her look it over. She looked up at him after a short examination of his work and her eyebrows shot up in amazement.

"It's not perfect, Mr Malfoy, but it's very good all the same. With a little more practice you might be able to get it right. Five points to Slytherin, well done," McGonagall said, her voice still terse and somewhat disapproving.

Draco sighed as he left the classroom. McGonagall had been at the trial for both Draco and Professor Snape. It was a mercy indeed that she'd let Draco back and it still amazed him that the Ministry had been able to force Snape back into the school against the imposing woman's express wishes. With the animosity towards Snape so high, he was waiting for the day when one of the other teaching staff would take matters into their own hands and off him personally.

Flitwick didn't seem to bare any grudge against him – even after Snape had knocked him out that night. He was one of the only teachers at least on speaking terms with the potions master, testifying for him by asserting that Snape had attacked no students, had had no knowledge of the invasion and was forced to commit the act by a wizarding vow – one of the most potent oath spells in existence. That didn't mean he liked him any, but he was willing to forgive, if not forget. Professor Slughorn, last years Potions Master had left in disgust when he'd heard they'd reinstated Snape and Hagrid the gamekeeper has disappeared as well, probably afraid that he'd throttle Snape if he ever saw him again. Draco assumed that he'd gone off to do business for the stupid Order, if that still existed.

Snape had taken up the post of Potions Master as McGonagall forbade him being reinstated as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and the position still remained empty. Absolutely no one could be called upon to fill the role, so they had one of the ghosts sitting in on the class, making sure that they read all the material in the seventh year textbook. Occasionally, they were allowed to duel one another, but that was becoming more and more rare.

Draco wondered if they might not just shut down the course entirely. It was possible with attendance having dropped to maybe about twelve students in total. As for him…all the teachers seemed to pity him, and though they looked on him with distrust, they didn't seem to have many qualms with having him in their classes. It probably had something to do with his parent's deaths.

He spent the short afternoon break between classes out in the memorial courtyard where he sat on the rim of a fountain that had a Phoenix at its centre, made of polished bronze and copper. The water seemed to pour up its tail and cascade out along the wingspan that curled around the central jet. When the wind blew in the right direction, the statue made a whistling sound, like that of a crying Phoenix and it was truly haunting.

They'd had it installed over the summer, dedicated to Albus Dumbledore. At the same time, Draco both loved and loathed the statue for its innate beauty and for the memories it conjured. At sunset it was at its best when the water caught the dying sun and rained down like liquid flames. Not many people entered the courtyard, the pain too fresh in their hearts so it was the perfect place for some peace and quiet without the constant whispering that seemed to start whenever he entered the classrooms.

Draco sat with Taliesin curled in his lap and stared out over the bare courtyard. It was such a desolate place to have so beautiful a monument, but maybe that's what made it so appealing. The afternoon bell rang, signalling the final class of the day and Draco made his way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts room, dreading the eighty minute period of reading that was ahead of him.

Blaise met him coming down the hall and escorted him to his seat, taking the place next to him. Today, Nearly Headless Nick was supervising with an absent air. Blaise slipped him a note under the table and opened his book, ignoring the Malfoy Heir from that point on. The message was simple.

[i"_Tonight - Astronomy tower 11pm."_[/i

Draco's stomach churned with anxiety and the feeling of dread that had plagued him yesterday returned. He really hoped that Blaise wouldn't make his lessons too painful. He hadn't liked the evil glint in the boy's eyes when he'd agreed to do anything Blaise told him.

The afternoon seemed to drag out painfully long with very little for Draco to occupy himself with. He was not looking forward to tonight.


	6. A different Skillset

A/N: Muahaha! Chapter Art. http:// yaoi.y-gallery . net / view / 292818 / . (wow, can't believe they don't allow hyperlinks...just remove the spaces and it should be shibby)

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

_A different skill set_

"Draco, where are you going?" Pansy enquired as Draco stalked towards the portrait-hole, cat in tow. Pansy got up from the couch she was lounging on as if determined to follow. Draco paused and glared at the eager Slytherin. The eyes of the occupants of the room followed the exchange eagerly, the conversations around them dulled.

"I'm going out. I'm meeting someone, don't follow me, Pansy," Draco said with an almost audible hiss. Pansy narrowed her eyes at him before spinning on her heel and storming off to the girl's dorm. Their audience began muttering and whispering among one another, flicking glances at the boy, as though he couldn't see it. Draco just rolled his eyes and hurried through the door, anxiety hot on his heels.

Draco swiftly made his way through the corridors of the school, dodging patrols and taking every shortcut he knew to get to the astronomy tower on time. It was particularly chilly in the halls tonight and he'd had to wear two jumpers as well as his cloak on top of that. His hands were tucked into his sides and a long green and white scarf wrapped half round his head, so that only the top of his face showed through. He'd even resorted to wearing a beanie that he'd donned once outside of the dormitory. He wouldn't normally be caught dead wearing it in public if he could help it but he'd be damned if he was going to freeze to death for something as trifling as public opinion.

As Draco made it to the winding staircase that led to the astronomy tower he looked about the hall as he approached. So much had happened here, it was so ironic that Blaise would choose this particular place to meet. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran up his spine. As he climbed the staircase, he stamped his feet unnecessarily hard on each step, trying to get feeling back in his toes. He was wearing two layers of socks, his dragon-hide hiking boots plus Wellington boots over the top of that. In short, he looked nothing short of ridiculous and almost like a walking pile of clothes. At some point during the walk, he'd lost track of Taliesin and he gestured with his finger to make the bells ring before continuing up the staircase.

The wind increased as he stepped out onto the platform and the air bit at the small amount of exposed flesh on Draco's face, making him wish he'd grabbed a balaclava as well. The worst part was, it was only still the end of autumn and it was promising to be a long, cold and bitter winter in the months ahead and he absolutely _loathed_ cold weather.

Draco looked out over the layers of material wrapped around his lower face to the opposite end of the platform where Blaise stood, bouncing up and down in his winter clothes. He looked almost as ridiculous as Malfoy felt.

"_Why_ insist on meeting out in the open in the middle of the night on the highest tower on the coldest bloody night in history if we're both going to freeze to death?" Draco demanded.

Blaise spun to face him and coughed to stifle a laugh. Of course, he really didn't look any better, but at least he didn't look like a kid dressed up in his Dad's clothing and shoes.

"C-c-c-c-come o-o-o-on…B-b-bloody f-f-freezing out here," he responded as he looped his arm with Draco's and escorted the boy back down the staircase. He led the frozen Slytherin to the disused storage room that was a few doors down and lit a magical flame that shone an intense blue, much like the other students had conjured down at Professor Grubbly-Plank's lesson earlier in the week. He placed it on the centre of a dusty old desk that he pulled to the middle of the room. The flame sat merrily, not even scorching the wood beneath it.

Malfoy shut the door behind him and locked it before greedily approaching the flame to defrost his numb hands and face. Blaise began taking off some of the layers he was wearing and stood opposite the shorter boy, enjoying the quiet companionship for a moment.

After Draco had taken the time to warm up and take off his scarf, beanie and cloak, plus the Wellington boots he sighed heavily and turned to face Blaise who was staring into the vivid flames.

"So…why the astronomy tower?" Draco asked, turning his gaze to the window.

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought it would be romantic," he said with a lopsided grin. "Forgot about the whole weather _issue_."

"Why do you care if it's romantic? Oh, wait, it's you! Nevermind," Draco quipped, a sneer tugging at the corner of his mouth. Blaise crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow at the blonde as if he were a simpleton.

"Lesson number one: The mood," Blaise said holding up a digit. "Also known as how to use your location to your advantage." Draco mimicked Blaise's pose from a moment before and waited with diminishing patience for Blaise to continue on.

"Take this room for example," Blaise started with a wide gesture. Draco flicked his gaze briefly around the room. There was absolutely nothing special about it, although with the blue flame lighting up the room and the moonlight filtering through the dusty window, it was kind of creepy. Desks were stacked one upon the other in one corner next to an ornate mahogany wardrobe that had four long claw marks scarring the front panelling. Beneath the only highset window in the room was a rosewood trunk that looked vaguely familiar to Malfoy and it's position in the moonlight seemed to make it stand out all the more from the other detritus in the room.

There were some torn and broken armchairs sitting desolately against the far wall and white sheets that had been placed protectively over them had at some point slipped half off, the fabric pooling on the cold stone floor around them. Right next to the rosewood trunk stood a wrought-iron candelabrum, dusty and strung with spider webs, casting an ominous shadow across numerous items that crowded together on the floor.

It gave Draco a sense of nostalgia when he thought back to last year and how he'd spent day after day fruitlessly working on the vanishing cabinet in the storeroom in the Room of Requirement. It reminded him of the choking dust, the constant pain in his limbs as he'd struggled endlessly with the cabinet. He could all over again feel the anguish, fear and frustration that had drained him and destroyed him.

The centre of the room held only the old desk with the enchanted fire, as if all the furniture had been pushed aside to allow the flames to dance gaily among the broken, forgotten and disused objects. Draco felt a quiver pass through his chest and gritted his teeth, determined to not let the resemblance and the ghostly atmosphere affect him. Draco returned his attention to the taller boy and shrugged blandly, arms crossed against his chest.

"So it's just a storeroom, I hear you say! Well…yes, it is, really, but with the right lighting, a little butter beer and a picnic blanket, we have make-out central!" Blaise said with a knowing leer. He extracted his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the dancing flame in the centre and concentrated until it shone with a warm amber tone. With another flick, he summoned candles that hovered mid-air, giving off a soft light and a heady musk-like fragrance.

The room seemed to come to life. Here and there the candlelight caught polished brass and gold that shone warmly back in invitation. The colours of the furniture fabric were revealed as a deep russet and the white sheets looked like cream spilling deliciously over the armchairs.

The room was becoming almost unbearably warm with all the layers Draco was still wearing and he tried hard to resist the urge to fidget. Blaise stalked round the table to stand in front of Draco, leaving little more than breathing space between the two, the warm light ghosting over his features and illuminating his eyes.

Draco unconsciously leaned away from Blaise, taking a step back to keep balance. The other followed taking two steps for every one that Draco made until he'd backed Draco into the wall by the window. He gently raised his arm and placed his hand beside Draco's white-blonde locks so immaculately slicked back and leaned in so that his body was merely an inch apart from him. All the while his piercing gaze never left Draco, the intensity of his expression mesmerising him. The young Malfoy could feel heat rise to his cheeks and his heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it in his throat.

"The second lesson," Blaise intoned; his voice rumbled through his chest, husky and thick with some indescribable emotion. Each word and breath brushed against Draco's neck like the touch of a feather, tickling him. Blaise's lips brushed against the blonde's ear and Draco couldn't suppress the shiver that ran the length of his spine. "Is…proximity!" Blaise abruptly stepped backwards, moving four feet away from Draco. The air felt cold in his absence. Blaise was smiling beatifically; Draco scowled in response, his arms resuming their position crossed against his chest.

"You have to make sure that there's always a reason to be near the person you're trying to charm, and it has to look mainly unintentional. Say for instance, you're standing at the window and you ask them to come look at the moon, you draw away slightly so they can get prime position then you move in behind them so that at least half your body is almost in contact or behind theirs. See, it's intimate, without being sexual. You could also try things like up on the astronomy tower, standing closer to keep warm…"

"Just don't do it when it's below zero, right?" Draco said with a smirk. Blaise ignored the tone and nodded happily in response.

"If you're studying together, then a good technique is to say to them you're having difficulty with a passage and ask them to read it and explain it for you. Don't hand over the book, instead take it to them and hold it in your hand so that they have to get closer to read it. Also, the reverse can happen if they need your help. You just simply go around to where they're seated and lean in to read from where they're holding the book." Blaise seemed to think for a moment.

"But my absolute favourite has to be the clothes twitch. You move up to the person," as Blaise explained he approached Draco for the second time. "And you say, 'you're collars all crooked, here; let me get that for you' or something like that. And you move in and fix their collar, but you stay close to them and draw your hands slowly back to their front and let them rest curled in their collar against their chest for a brief pause, before you shake yourself and let your arms drop to your sides." Blaise demonstrated on Draco, letting his hands rest heavily against him before following through. He gave him a weak smile, but didn't back away. "Maintain this distance, and smile like you're unsure, almost sad. Wait for them to either say something or back away before you move.

"Of course, that one only works in certain situations, usually it's with someone that you've known at least for a little while, so it almost seems like an innocent touch. It won't work with someone you've just met, but unintentional proximity will help you turn a friend into a possibility."

Draco shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "What, pray tell, does this have to do with stopping Harry _bloody_ Potter from_killing me dead?!_" he screeched. Blaise reared backed with surprise.

"Well…ah…actually, nothing, really. Might get you a boy slash girlfriend, but probably… wouldn't, as such…stop Potter from…um…killing you…" Blaise giggled uncertainly under Malfoy's glare. The silence stretched out between them tensely.

Blaise narrowed his eyes and his expression turned angry.

"Hey, you asked _me_, ME! For help! This is the only way I know, ok? You want my advice, you want to be able to do this? Then you have to let me teach you the only way I can!"

Draco's expression stayed firm for the longest time. He took a deep breath and stood away from the wall. Slowly he approached Blaise who looked annoyed and bewildered. Draco moved so that there was barely an inch between the two and reached up behind Blaise's neck and began fiddling with his collar. He had to stand on tiptoe to reach properly, the other boy being so tall. He looked up into Blaise's startled face and noticed with some amusement a faint blush tinting his tanned cheeks.

"You are such a slob, can't even dress yourself properly," Draco muttered, unable to suppress a smirk. He trailed his hands slowly down the collar of Blaise's jacket and rested his hands gently against his chest. Blaise watched him with wide eyes, mesmerised. Draco met his gaze, the sneer fading from his lips.

"Wow," Blaise gasped.

"Your way," Draco responded simply, letting go of Blaise's Jacket. The taller boy grabbed his arms before they could pull away further and held on tightly to his wrists. He stared with a wide-eyed intensity at Draco and pulled him closer, making the blonde stumble into his chest.

"You'll do everything I say? Absolutely everything?"

"I will," Draco affirmed. "…Within reason."

"Then kiss me," Blaise demanded needily.

"What?! Why?! What does that help with anything?"

"You said everything!"

"Ye- no! I said within reason! Kissing's not going to help me!" Draco tried to yank free, but Blaise's grip was too firm. The other boy transferred both wrists to the one hand and wrapped the other around Draco's waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Draco glared angrily at him, lips tightly pursed and grey eyes blazing.

"This is what you agreed to," Blaise reminded the struggling youth. "You knew _exactly_ what you were getting into, and I'm sure you knew that there would be a cost. I'm not helping you out of the goodness of my heart, Draco. For Merlin's sake, I'm a Slytherin! Nothing is for free. If there's something to be got out of this, then I'm going to get it!

"This is my price. You agreed to the payment. Everything I say. _Everything_!" Blaise lowered his head closer to Draco's ear, trying to get the boy to listen. "I'm not going to ask anymore than I think you can give. I will have my payment Draco, but I'm not going to take it by force. I'll just stop trying to help - it's your decision."

"Let me go!"

"No! You will listen to me! You owe me – I am trying to help, really, but you have to start thinking outside of your stupid little box! There are ways and ways to do things! There's my way, which is a vast deal pleasanter than most, or there's the Dark Lord's way, which is pain, agony and most likely death. And of course there's Harry Potter's way, which is definitely going to be without a doubt, death! He's not even going to have the decency of torturing you first," Blaise paused, taking an angry breath.

"My way," Blaise snapped, his jaw tight with frustration. Draco paused in his struggles and he looked into Blaise's face, eyes swimming with pain and defeat. He sagged against his new teacher, who had to brace the both of them. Blaise released his bruising grip on Malfoy's wrist and wrapped his arm firmly around the boy and pulled him closer.

"But…I…don't know how…" Draco muttered into Blaise's chest, ashamed that he could feel tears stinging his eyes. Blaise lifted Draco's chin with a delicacy and gentleness at odds with the harsh expression still burning fiercely in his eyes. He pulled back slightly as he wiped the single tear that rolled down the youth's cheek and cupped his jaw possessively with both hands.

"Don't worry about it, I get the feeling that you're going to be a natural," he whispered, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Draco looked so vulnerable at that moment; his hands clenched tightly in the fabric of Blaise's jumper, his eyes over-bright from suppressed tears. Blaise licked his lips in anticipation and he could feel an intense heat pulsating through his abdomen, rising and searing him as it spread. He'd always been a sucker for open vulnerability and Draco was looking so delectable, it was hard to not just ravish him where he stood.

Draco transferred his grip from Blaise's sweater to his wrists and the gesture and the feel of the soft skin of Draco's fingers against the back of his hand threw him over the edge. With an unexpected lunge Blaise captured Draco's mouth in his own, fiercely drawing the boy closer. He could feel the tremor that was running through Draco's body intensify and his grip on Blaise's wrist tightened.

Blaise's tongue dipped out and traced Draco's upper lip making him gasp. Blaise took a quick breath and used this opportunity to drive in further, his tongue exploring the virgin mouth enthusiastically. When he felt Draco's trembling stop and the tentative movement beneath his own mouth, Blaise nearly melted to the floor in delight and shock.

Their tongues met and curled around one another, Blaise's greedy and almost uncontrolled and Draco's gentle, questing. Draco's hands slithered up around Blaise's neck and tangled in his hair, scratching his scalp exquisitely. At that point Blaise did lose control and crumpled to the floor pinning Draco beneath him. His hands explored every inch of him he could reach, a hand slipping underneath every layer of clothing to access the flesh of Draco's chest. The boy flinched from the unexpected and chilled touch that seemed to set his skin on fire. Draco moaned against Blaise's mouth as his hand wandered down to his abdomen, his fingers slipped under the waist-band of his trousers. Blaise caressed the flawless skin that met his own and only stopped the direction of his wandering hand when he felt his hips begin the urge to grind into the body beneath him.

He pulled away from the blonde's mouth, panting heavily, his entire body shuddering with the effort of not ripping off all his clothes in that instant. In a breathy, trembling voice, Blaise said, "U-u-uh…um…yes…very….good, I think that'll be ok for now."

"No it won't," Draco responded and leaned forward, taking Blaise's abused lips in his own. Draco forcefully controlled the other with slow, deep movements, relishing the sounds the other was making. Blaise's hands again began to travel up and down Draco's sides, one sliding under his back, the other planted on his hip. God he was good at this. It took another twenty minutes for some coherent thought to get through to Blaise, a nasty logical voice that reminded him that a bunch of third year's were due to come down the hallway from their astronomy lesson soon and it would make it nigh impossible for the two to return to their dorm unnoticed. He cursed mentally and groaned. Blaise broke away, gasping for air, his lips bruised and his mind dazzled.

"Ok, kissing…we don't need to teach you anything…oh my god, yep…definitely a natural." Blaise leaned his forehead against Draco's chest as he tried to catch his breath; the smaller boy wrapped his arms around his head, keeping him in place for the moment. Draco stared at the ceiling, deep in contemplation.

"Hmm…so, what other lessons have you got planned for the night?" He asked, looking down his nose at the top of Blaise's head. Blaise groaned and let out an exhausted laugh.

"I don't know, nothing I guess…I had something, but I appear to have lost my brain," he muttered into Draco's chest.

"You pussy. One kiss and you lose it? That's sad, Blaise, really sad."

"Oh shut it, you, help me up. Let's get back to the dorms, shall we?" Blaise rolled off Draco's chest and lay on his back, knees pointed to the ceiling.

"Oh, I can't wait to see Pansy's face when we walk in together!" Draco exclaimed as he pulled Blaise to his feet.

"Why do you tease her so much?"

"She's the closest thing there is to sport anymore. No Gryffindors is boring. Anyway, she annoys me."

"Everyone annoys you, Draco."

"Yes, but not everyone has as much spunk or wit as she does. She's much more fun to play with than the others."

"Oh, so you actually like her?"

"I guess she's not totally inhuman."

"Well," Blaise said as he escorted Draco out the door. "At least it's a start."

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	7. Of words, rumours and requirements

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_Of words, rumours and requirements_

They'd had to take their time getting back to the dungeons from the astronomy tower, having to dodge not only patrols but the group of students returning from their astronomy class as well as Filch pottering around on the third floor. There was a close run-in with Mrs Norris, but the two managed to dodge down a side-passage. They also had to contend with Blaise giddily dragging Draco into deep shadows and pressing his hands and his lips all over him every few corridors.

The attention was very flattering and he had to admit that he was enjoying himself more so than he'd ever expected. Draco was secretly elated every time Blaise would touch him, or even just look at him with his liquid brown and lustful eyes. Although he knew it was just the hormones and it wasn't even a real emotion that was guiding the two, in a very singular way each moment of contact made him feel in some inexplicable way cherished. Each caress or longing stare seemed to fill him with heat even as shivers ran down his spine and his skin tingled and burned at each touch. His emotions were in a turmoil; shame, anxiety and fear as well as uncertainty, giddiness and joy seemed to war for domination and the sensations were dizzying. Under it all, there was the feeling of being rebuilt, stone by stone. Draco's ego and self-worth began to piece together, with every fierce and unabashed sensation of skin brushing skin.

At one point, they were pressed up together behind the statue of the one-eyed witch as Professor Flitwick checked the hall for any stray students. Blaise was watchfully keeping an eye on the corridor and the short man's steady progress down it. On a whim Draco craned his neck and latched delicately onto Blaise's tan earlobe, giving it an experimental lick. Blaise shuddered and nearly collapsed as Draco bit into the flesh, sucking on it gently. Blaise's eyelids fluttered and he leaned into the other, trying desperately not to moan allowed. The moment that Flitwick rounded the corner pushed Malfoy away with a gentle shove and glared at the smirking bastard.

"What in hell were you doing?!" he hissed.

Draco shrugged in response, slipping his hands into his pockets as he leaned languidly up against the hump of the one-eyed witch.

"Always wanted to try that, to see what it was like," Draco explained carelessly, mirth dancing in his eyes. Blaise spluttered for a moment, looking wildly around him before his eyes rested back on Malfoy.

"Where did you even hear about that?" Blaise demanded, his cheeks still burning and his heart racing in his chest. It had been such a turn on when Draco had nibbled his ear that he was fighting hard to encourage the blood back to his other limbs.

Again, Draco shrugged nonchalantly. Blaise stared wide-eyed at him until the other conceded with a large sigh.

"I swear to god, Zabini, if this gets out I will personally see to your inhumation. Ok, well, as you know I stayed at Snape's house for a week before term started and while I was there I went looking through his books. Snape's house is so boring and fusty, ugh. At any rate, I discovered this secret stash of muggle novels. Romance books, apparently, written by some guy, Mills Boon or something, I don't rightly remember. I read the whole ear thing in one of them…among other things, and I just wanted to see if it actually worked."

"Satisfied?"

"Very," Draco replied with a smirk.

"Come on, let's keep going."

Blaise remained silent the rest of the trip to the dungeons, thinking carefully on the evening. He was beginning to wonder, not for the first time if he could actually teach Draco anything of use. Blaise already found the little blonde irresistible and his ear-nibbling trick, plus that arrogant air that he seemed to carry with him all the time was very enticing, in his opinion. He wasn't sure which he liked better, arrogant, seductive Draco or vulnerable, innocent Draco. Blaise then wondered which one was the act, and if he wasn't already beaten at his own game.

It crossed his mind that Draco might be playing him, but he couldn't perceive any ulterior motive. Malfoy had up to this point shown no real interest in him as a friend or lover, and though he'd certainly seemed to enjoy the physical interactions, it still somehow seemed clinical and only slightly curious. Not that it mattered, but Blaise would have played with him without needing an excuse, so it couldn't just be about that.

Draco caught Blaise by the arm and dragged him into the shadows with a jerk moments before one of the Hogwarts ghosts sailed passed. He kept his hand on Blaise's arm as he played lookout, oblivious to the touch. It struck the taller boy then that he really didn't have all that much to teach him. Draco was a master of his emotions, and always had been. He had an especially refined way with words, when he chose to rise above more than petty insults; he'd just never directed his energy into it productively, in Blaise's mind. He had all the tools already, really, or at least he certainly had back in fifth year and though the Slytherin had changed dramatically over the last year and a half, he still had access to that potential; even if he didn't know how to funnel it.

Blaise decided to not mention anything and just prolong these little lessons as long as he possibly could, already thinking about what he'd do with the blonde on Saturday, when they had the full day to play together. He was going to get as much enjoyment out of this as he could, and he was really curious to see how far Draco would go to learn his secrets. Blaise's mouth curled up in a leer at the very thought of it. He supposed he should feel bad about it, but while Draco continued to think he had something to teach, he was going to try and accommodate.

By the time the two had reached the common room, it was well past midnight with one o'clock approaching with deceptive speed. They entered as quietly as possible and stood in the deserted common room, gazing at each other a moment, both wearing almost identical smirks. Draco ran a lazy tongue over his top lip, his eyes narrowed at the older boy in challenge. Blaise pushed him into the wall by the spiralling staircase, pinning him with his arms and met Draco's unspoken provocation with a bruising, aggressive kiss.

"Draco, is that you?" Pansy said as she sleepily descended the stairs to the room, eyes shuttered from the dim light emanating from the fireplace. She had Taliesin curled up in her arms and was wearing only a short night-dress, her hair wild with sleep. She blinked and gaped at the two making out at the bottom of the stairs. "Blaise, is this really the time?" she demanded crossly, annoyed at being woken because the tall boy couldn't keep his hands to himself. The two glanced up through heavy-lidded eyes at the sound of her voice and Pansy screeched when Blaise's victim was revealed to her.

"Draco?!" she shrieked, disbelief ringing in her voice. Draco sneered at her and snaked an arm around Blaise's neck, drawing the boy against him.

"A little consideration, Parkinson, people are trying to sleep, you know," Draco goaded, amusement ringing through his voice. She stood gaping like a fish, unable to respond. Blaise dove in for another inspection of Draco's mouth before detaching from him as the smaller boy began to push at his chest. Draco stepped away and started up the stairs brushing past Pansy, dragging Zabini with him, who just shrugged at the girl in silent explanation. Pansy stared at their retreating backs long after they'd entered and shut the door to their dormitory. Her eyebrows slowly lowered and she slumped, a resigned expression descending on her features. She sighed to herself and looked at the cat in her arms.

"Figures," she muttered to him, running a hand down his back. "Had to be gay." Turning around she made her way to the girl's dorm room and woke Millicent Bulstrode with a shake to her massive shoulder.

"What?" the girl grunted sleepily.

"You will never guess!"

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By the next morning all of Slytherin had heard about Draco's late-night tryst with the most infamous flirt in Hogwarts history. By the end of breakfast, the rest of the school had heard the gossip in all its embellished finery. Blaise simply lapped up the attention and made a point of making as many lewd comments that was possible over the table. Somehow he managed to turn the simple question, 'can you pass the butter?' into something entirely erotic. His flirtations weren't isolated to Draco, who chose to ignore him, sitting in a dignified and disinterested silence, carelessly regarding the piece of fruit on the end of his fork. Blaise made passes at everyone, elated and feeling way too chipper for so early in the morning. The other members of Slytherin house were by turns staring at Draco as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head and the whispers that normally followed the slight boy seemed to have increased.

Draco was a little startled when one of them actually addressed him directly. He turned to face Theodore Nott who was looking at him with an intensity that was a little off putting. Theodore had always been like that. It seemed that he didn't have any dial to tone down all that fervour he spent everyday living with. Though intense, he always appeared so cool and independent, preferring the company of few, mostly those of a more advanced age then his fellow year-mates offered. Draco had always quietly respected the boy. He didn't flap about like a lot of the other members of his year, or his house for that matter, and he seemed so capable, never really going along with whatever the crowd did. Though that was sometimes frustrating, it was in its own way quite admirable.

"So is it true? Are you gay?" He asked.

"Gay? No. Not gay," Draco replied without hesitation. "Let's just call me…ambivalent."

"But you're with Blaise, aren't you, for real?"

That gained the attention of everyone at the table. Draco looked at every face, his gaze landing on Blaise who looked a little nervous. He smirked and reached for the Daily Prophet, shaking it open to the society section. He glanced over the top of the paper with a leer. "For now," he finally responded.

Theodore sat back slightly and looked at his breakfast, unfathomable. Pansy simply groaned and directed her attention to Daphne Greengrass who was insistently tugging on her sleeve, clearly wanting to hear the news proper from the original source. Blaise leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head with a smirk as he eyed off a passing Ravenclaw before she blushed and kept moving.

"Well," Theodore piped up suddenly, startling the table. "So long as you don't go making out in the dorm while I'm there, I guess it's ok." He shrugged and returned to finishing his breakfast.

"Geez, Nott, thanks for the blessing," Draco muttered sarcastically, but he grinned all the same. Theodore caught the smile and nodded in response. Draco glanced sidelong at the two mountains of boys that were Crabbe and Goyle, but they seemed totally disinterested in the gossip and were busily making their way through their third helpings of porridge. Then again, they never really ever cared for gossip, simply preferring some good company and good food. Some of the younger members of the table were looking at him with distrust and a renewed dislike, but they troubled him little. He'd flatten any of them if they tried anything, and being a senior and rather much taller than his underclassmen, he was intimidating enough that they wouldn't start anything..

It was kind of strange really; the lack of backlash was in a way disappointing. Draco could admit to a fondness for dramatics and he'd been rather hoping for some excitement to come of the whole event and was definitely feeling a little annoyed that there wasn't some taunting from other houses, or even from his own year-mates. If the Gryffindors had been there, they'd have mocked him at least. Then he could have feigned indignation and sought some form of revenge…oh, and it would have been sweet.

Just as he was drifting off, Taliesin reappeared in front of him leaping onto the table and mewling demandingly. Draco dropped the paper and pulled the pills from his pocket. There were only a few left to go and Draco figured that he'd probably go see Grubbly-Plank at lunch to get the cat a check-up.

He'd been slightly worried once he'd woken up to find his cat missing and was surprised when he'd leisurely wandered out of the girl's dorms as Draco was making his way down the stairs. He'd felt jealous that Taliesin had chosen to stay in there overnight than come to him and he definitely felt silly for thinking that way. _It's just a stupid cat, get a hold of it_, he chastised himself inwardly.

A plate of fish appeared once Taliesin had submitted to the pills and he enthusiastically started on his meal. Pansy reached over and scratched the cat between its ears when it sat back, having devoured the entire bowl, his belly round with food.

"You're such a good cat, Tally, yes you are!" she cooed.

"Tally?!" Draco yelped in indignation. Pansy stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's a much cuter name than Taliesin, though that's nice too, but cats should have names like, Spoon, or Pussy-willow or Fluffy. Taliesin is so formal. I'm calling him Tally."

"He's not your cat to name!"

"Yes he is! He's everyone's cat," she responded evenly.

"No he's not! I look after him. He's mine."

"You mean you're his."

"What?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'happiness is being owned by a cat'?" Pansy asked abruptly.

"Huh? No, who'd say a stupid thing like that?"

"I don't know, but I'd say it's fair to say it's close to the truth."

"Such lies."

Pansy shrugged, crossing one leg over the other as she continued to pet Tally. Silence stretched out and breakfast came to a close as the bell rang in warning. Pansy got up, dusting off the back of her robes and turned to Malfoy who raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is too everyone's."

"Is not."

"Fine, then everyone's his."

Taliesin sat up straighter at that and surveyed the table like a ruling noble. Pansy curtsied before the feline then dragged Draco to his feet. "Come on, we've got Ancient Runes now and I need you there to cheat off your notes," she said. Draco sighed melodramatically then followed her to their first class. Taliesin followed, bringing up the rear.

He actually enjoyed Ancient Runes, and with that Granger girl gone, he was performing at head of the class. That had always been impossible in any courses they'd shared, save for potions where Snape's inborn dislike for anything Gryffindor and his blatant favouritism seeing to Draco's top grades.

It still irked him that in last year, he no longer had to contend with Granger for position as top potions student, but Harry Potter instead, with his miraculous shoot to the top of the class. Considering what Draco went through last year, he allowed himself the luxury of claiming complete distraction. Pansy called on Draco to hurry up from further down the hall as she nearly danced to class.

She was acting really strange today - really friendly towards him, but not in the ingratiating way that he was so used to diffusing. She was almost being, dare he think it, _pleasant_. Draco supposed because he was now officially "off the market" according to the very juicy rumours, she'd just given up and settled for just being friends. It was a relief in a way, but Draco felt that she should still be at least attempting to secure his affections. Pansy was a Slytherin after all, and what Slytherin's want, through a lot of persistence and slyness, they usually got. It was at that moment that he had an epiphany.

Pansy was already finding her seat and Draco dropped his bag down in the seat next to her, staring dazedly toward the front of the room. _She never liked me_, he thought, shocked that he wasn't overly concerned by the revelation. A little annoyed at her for all her wanton attempts at his affections, but feeling very little else. Draco watched as she unpacked her books, ink and quills with a slight smile on her face.

He'd have to ask her about it later. At that moment Professor Babbling had marched to the front of the room and started wordlessly drawing runes on the blackboard with her wand. Draco sat a little straighter in his chair and got his quill and ink ready to take notes, his textbook lying open between him and Pansy. Today, it seemed that they'd be looking at healing runes and their applied uses in charms and phylacteries based on what the Professor had started on the board. Draco loved runes because they were simple, and complex at the same time while also being very powerful. It was always a thrill to be able to decipher their meaning and discover their use in rituals and spells.

The single most exciting thing about runes though, is that even one word had power to it, whereas most modern spells or words of power required other words to give it potency. The problem was that runes required a physical manifestation of the symbol or word for it to have any effectiveness, which is where aural spells were more immediately useful.

Tally watched for a time what the teacher at the front was doing before yawning disinterestedly and curling up in Draco's lap for an eighty minute nap. Draco stroked him absently as he attended to the lesson – the first class he'd actually afforded some interest in over the last few days. The lesson seemed to pass too quickly for Draco, and he was a little disappointed when it ended.

"Finally!" Pansy cried as she near sprinted from the room. Draco really didn't understand why she took the subject, seeing as she was so absolutely useless at it. Draco rejoined Pansy in the hall after packing his bag, Tally sitting on his shoulder, perch like. They both made their way to their next class for a short period of Charms followed by lunch where, incredibly, the rumours had continued to grow and were now highly sensational. It was all rather amusing.

For once, Blaise was actually present when he was needed. Draco slipped in the seat beside his "boyfriend" to the winces of some and the gasps of others at the table, further confirming the announcements at breakfast.

"So, Blaise, when's the next meeting?" Draco enquired, with barely a glance to the other boy.

"How about tonight?"

"I can't, I've got Astronomy from 11.30pm til 12.30pm."

"Oh, well I have a few spares tomorrow afternoon," Blaise responded eyeing Draco over with a proprietary air. He had to refrain from the urge to fiddle with his hair or clothes. It would have looked silly with Draco always being immaculately groomed. He moved closer to the boy, leaning his thigh against Draco's as a compromise. The blonde raised a carefully arched brow at him but made no comment on the contact.

"I have last period free. So, would you like to meet up for the short break and continue from there?" Draco asked. He was keenly aware that every student within earshot was listening with painful concentration.

"Sure, same place?"

"Mmm…sure, astronomy tower store room it is," Draco said, raising his voice slightly. Blaise blanched at Draco's words and his eyes seemed to scream, "are you an idiot?!" Recovering his composure, he simply smirked and nodded before returning to his food. Occasionally he'd shoot a glance at Draco, who refused to acknowledge him in the slightest, rather going over some Charms notes with Crabbe and Goyle. His planned visit to Grubbly-Plank lay forgotten as he battled with the slow wits of his two bodyguards as they struggled to understand one particular spell that appeared to be troubling them. The boys were rather sweet in their own way, and very difficult to refuse, because they would usually just give him those hangdog expressions which made it impossible for Draco to abandon them when he was in a good mood.

The lunch bell rang some time later and Draco and Blaise left the hall together as they made their way down for potions. Blaise grabbed his wrist and started tugging him towards an empty classroom just short of the potions lab. Once inside, he pressed Draco up violently against the door, firmly barricading themselves in the room.

"Why the hell did you say that?! You do realise that every bloody pervert in school is now going to stake out the astronomy tower tomorrow! " he fumed, his voice a bare whisper.

"Which means that they'll be waiting around for a very long time, since we won't ever make it to the astronomy tower," Draco responded evenly as he attempted to pry Blaise's fist from his robes.

"Wait, what?"

"You remember back in fifth year, how the inquisitorial squad and I caught Potter and his little gang practising in that stupid club of theirs? Dumb-ass Army or whatever it was?"

"Not really, I mean, Theodore used to talk about it, but I was otherwise distracted," Blaise replied with a shrug.

"Of course you were," Draco deadpanned with a sigh. "It was the Ravenclaw girl?"

"Good times," he responded with a dreamy smile.

"Well, up on the seventh floor there's the room that they were practicing in, it's called the Room of Requirement. It's where last year…well, I was in it a lot last year. It's the perfect place. Now, can we get to class? I'm not exactly in Snape's good books at the moment, so let's try not to annoy him?"

"Ok, I think we're learning about some of the more complicated medical potions today, anyway. I don't want to miss it this time," Blaise said. He stopped pinning Draco and then started tugging at his clothes, making him look slightly dishevelled. Draco's protests went unheard, and he nearly squealed girlishly as Blaise ran a hand through his groomed hair, ruffling it. Blaise started readjusting his own clothes before smiling and pushing Draco from the room without an explanation.

They both approached the class fixing their clothes and Draco had to admire Blaise's brilliance even while he fumed about his hair. The rest of the class broke out into giggles and whispers, taking amusement from Draco's rumpled and grumpy appearance. He snarled wordlessly at them and stormed into the classroom ahead of them all. He took his traditional seat, later joined by Blaise, who he pointedly ignored and endured the "lover's spat" comments being thrown at him. His teeth were gritted so hard that his jaw began to hurt and his foot was tapping irritably.

Snape entered and silence quickly descended on the class as they waited with baited breath to see what kind of mood he was in. Not good. He was bustling around with more than usual aggression, slamming books and glaring daggers at any student who made even the slightest noise.

"Textbooks out, lips shut," he ordered. The students in the class all groaned inwardly before following the instructions that Snape was angrily shooting at the board with his wand. Today was definitely not a good day.


	8. Déjà vu

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_Déjà vu _

Friday morning dawned and with it brought a sense of anticipation. Draco was up early yet again. Taliesin had slept sprawled over Draco's arm, deadening it and kicking his side as he dreamed fitfully, wakening the boy.

The morning ritual of changing the bandage went through rather smoothly this time. There was little left other then a thin scab running across Tally's ribs and the cat was now able to put a small amount of pressure on his front paw, though it still caused him some pain. Draco resolved to take him down to Grubbly-Plank that morning before breakfast.

When he'd got there and she'd inspected the wound on his ribs, she told Draco to remove the bandage and let it heal naturally now as no infection had occurred and it was quickly on the mend. She'd raised her eyebrows when she'd seen the swift improvement, considering how deep the gash had been. By the looks of it, it wouldn't even leave much scar tissue and she'd expressed some interest over that. The paw still had to remain in the cast at least for another few weeks; she'd said he'd be able to remove it before Christmas which was steadily approaching.

Taliesin escorted Draco to the Great Hall, tail raised proudly erect as he stalked the halls, finally free of the annoying fabric that he'd been stuck in for the last five days. His paw was still in a cast, but the cat's spirits were clearly higher than they had been. He accompanied Draco to Defence Against the Dark Arts, spending the entire lesson being petted by every student in the class. There was a single lesson of Potions where they reviewed the week's readings and wrote down their weekly assignment. Next came lunch and Tally had trundled off elsewhere but rejoined Draco for a theory lesson of Astronomy.

His presence calmed Draco down greatly as his attention on the class flagged and his thoughts became occupied with Blaise's next lessons. The guy made him distinctly nervous, especially with the obvious signs of affection he kept displaying towards him.

Draco spent the entire class absorbed in his own thoughts, relying on his quill to take any important notes as he daydreamed. He was startled when the bell rang and it felt to him like the day had just not happened, as though he'd been poised ready for this moment, just waiting for a signal. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Draco made his way to the great hall where, waiting up against the stairway was Blaise, looking debonair, sexy and bored.

He looked up at Draco's approach and followed him back up the stairs silently. Tally ran on ahead as the other two meandered slowly up the staircases, putting on a show for any students still rushing from their classes. Their slow pace meant that any followers had to keep a good distance and once they'd mounted the steps to the sixth floor and rounding the corridor, Draco quickly grabbed Blaise and pulled him behind a tapestry, that led to a hidden set of stairs which took them to an area just around the corner from the Room of Requirement on the next floor.

Draco paused on the stairway and listened carefully for any movement, remaining still for around five minutes before he led Blaise to the blank wall that was awaiting their demands…Only, it wasn't blank.

Taliesin sat there, in front of the door to room with an impatient air and Draco paused, feeling somewhat apprehensive. His hand rested hesitantly on the handle for a moment before he twisted it and pushed the door open slowly. The room was cavernous, empty and dark. Draco turned to Blaise who merely raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. He shrugged in response and entered warily scanning each corner of the room with wide eyes. Taliesin dashed in quickly nearly tripping Draco over in his haste. The cat began a quick inspection of the room, sniffing at various objects and prowling the length of the room almost desperately.

As Blaise passed the threshold and shut the door behind them, soft yellow light immediately lit the room from several sconces positioned around the walls. Bookshelves ran the entire perimeter of the room, as though its borders were merely composed of shelving. Only one section of wall remained free of books, instead a dusty brick fireplace sat cold and gloomy occupying that particular space. Soot spattering the tiled area beneath the grate showed some recent use. Facing the fireplace was an overstuffed armchair decked out in patched red and gold fabric and draped carelessly over that was a ragged, but still serviceable green blanket. Next to that lying discarded was a messy pool of black fabric. Sitting immediately in front of the fireplace on the tiles sat two careworn boots, their laces looking the worse for wear. Draco continued to browse the room silently. Off to one side of the room was a sturdy hardwood table that had a few books stacked randomly on top. Next to that lay a piece of parchment, a quill and ink set, a half-eaten apple that had gone brown and withered and a strangely shaped bottle that held a clear colourless liquid.

There were a few chairs that seemed to have been pushed back up against the bookshelves and towards the centre and further past the table, a patch of floor had been cleared and in chalk on the floorboards there was drawn what appeared to be some kind of ritual circle. At certain intervals stood five solid candles marking points along the pattern circle, half molten.

Blaise had wandered over to the bookshelves and was absently running a finger along the spines of the books as he randomly read the titles embossed on the age blackened leather. Draco approached the ring carefully, making sure to stay outside the chalked lines. He examined the intricate curves and steady lines with a keen interest. He let his fingers hover a few inches above the patterns, tracing the lines of power. There was still a faint emanation that felt like static pressing against the flesh of his outstretched arm. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He could only imagine how painful it might have been whilst still in activation. Draco noted that each candle had melted so that a pool of wax had poured down the sides facing away from the circle, as though a wind had buffeted the flames outward from the middle which was odd, but not unheard of.

Within arms reach of the circle, sitting abandoned on the floor was a large tome bound in green leather. Draco approached it and flipped the cover to read the title and was unsurprised when it showed him a blank surface. The spine was equally uninformative which made the mystery that little bit more intriguing.

Further into the room, along the back wall stood a small metallic bench-top which had vials and a cauldron, a row of beakers on a separate stand and a glass cabinet that housed a variety of different potion substances. Blaise had approached it and was studying the vials that still housed some unknown substance that looked the colour of pond scum.

"Hmm…so, _why_ are we here?" Blaise asked as he straightened from his inspection. He turned to Draco who was still captivated by the circle. "Oi! Malfoy!"

"What? Oh, well, normally the room adjusts itself to your needs if you pace in front of it three times concentrating, but well, Tally was here first and the door was already visible. So whoever was in here last…this must be what they used. Can't think why the cat would want to come here." Draco turned and spotted Tally curled up on the black fabric that had been left discarded on the floor next to the armchair, his body rising and falling softly in sleep.

"Then why don't we go out and come back in?" Blaise asked with a shrug. Draco looked carefully around the room.

"Mm…we're here now. I'm sure that whatever you might possibly need will be provided. That's how the room works. Anyway, I want to keep looking around this room once we're done."

"But there isn't even a nice comfy place to sit down here!" Blaise protested, pouting at Draco who ignored him. Instead the shorter Slytherin turned to study the room again.

"No, look over there. Don't see how we could have missed it. There's a…bed– honestly Blaise, 'a nice comfy place to sit'? What exactly are you planning on teaching me?" Draco asked in exasperation. Blaise stalked up to Draco and leant into him, arms crossed against his chest.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He said huskily, his breath ghosting across Draco's cheek, making him shiver in response. "Come on, let's get on the bed." Without waiting for a response, he steered Draco backward to the bed, til his knees hit the mattress and he fell onto it. Draco glared at him, his jaw jutting out stubbornly.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Blaise said with a dismissive wave. "I thought we'd just review the lesson from the other night." He leant in close to Draco, making the other tilt his head to keep his face in sight. He gently cupped Draco's face with his hands and leaned in so close every breath he took made his lips gently brush the reddening ones below his. Draco's hand came up to hold Blaise's, his gentle tug bringing Blaise's body even closer. Draco's eyes shut involuntarily at another bush of skin and he felt the heat that they both generated mix and pool around him. Blaise tilted his head, blowing delicately on Draco's shut eyelids, letting his lips brush against his forehead, cheek then against his ear and to his neck where he sent another soft breath.

He felt Draco's shiver and withdrew slightly watching with growing hunger as the boy licked his lips nervously. With a gentle, but firm grip, Blaise pushed Draco back so that he had to scoot backward onto the bed. Not letting go of him, Blaise sat beside him, making Draco twist awkwardly to face him. With soft nuzzles and gentle brushes against his neck – what appeared to be Draco's weak point, Blaise managed to manoeuvre Malfoy up against the pillows that littered the head of the bed.

With each teasing caress and careless brush of lips against his burning skin, Draco was becoming more flustered as the kiss he suddenly desired was being withheld and he was powerless to claim it for himself; paralysed as he was from Blaise's ministrations, his hands buried in Blaise's hair, an occasional moan escaping his lips.

Blaise lowered himself tentatively on top of Draco and pulled his head back to stare at the beauty beneath him briefly. With amusement he studied Draco's flustered features, his hands wandering away from his jaw to explore his chest. Finally he pressed his lips against Draco's who hungrily opened his mouth to allow him in further. When their tongues touched it was like completion and Blaise could feel himself grow hard against Draco's thigh and he pressed down into him, chuckling against Draco's mouth as his eyes flew wide open in shock and he flinched up against Blaise.

Draco's struggles became more frantic and he finally managed to push Blaise off who gave in to waves of uncontrolled laughter.

"Ok, enough review, Zabini. Honestly! You bloody Slytherin," Draco muttered darkly, edging away from the boy who was curled in on himself, still laughing. Draco turned and sat on the edge of the bed, his legs planted firmly on the floor.

"Fine, fine!" Blaise managed once his laughter had died down. "Anyway, onto this lesson. Last time we covered Atmosphere and Proximity so tonight…we'll um…look at…Attitude and Etiquette."

Draco brightened at his, because it didn't require Blaise touching him and after before, he wasn't quite ready for the boy to touch him quite so soon.

"Now, Draco, don't take this the wrong way, because it's not necessarily a bad thing, but you've got this whole 'superior bastard' attitude going on most of the time. It's fine among us Slytherin's, because, well, most of us act like that. Even the Ravenclaw's are a bit high-minded. Then you've got that stupid Gryffindork pride thing too. But their behaviour is much easier to accept, because they're not horrible bastards to everyone normally and they don't make everything a personal attack.

"You, however, are best described as a self-absorbed, self-important, bigoted bully with an inflated ego-"

"Hey!"

"Come on, Drake, admit it. It's the truth and you're proud of that. But if you want to make enemies into friends and friends into lovers and your lovers into sex-slaves, then you need to start moderating yourself.

"Arrogance is fine, it gives you this whole 'fuck off, I'm too busy and important' air, which I find gaggingly irresistible. Use it, wear it, and embrace your superiority! Let's face it, you're rich, you come from an influential family and that gives you a lot of power and appeal. But you have to stop teasing people unnecessarily. It's time you started using your powers for…well, not good, but for your own benefit, because right now, you're not helping yourself any.

"No more unprovoked personal attacks, no more general malice because someone's different or not as well off as you and restrict your mud-blood comments to the dorm, because the other houses aren't impressed."

"Oh, but I love my racial slurs," Draco whined. He didn't like the sound of this. "You're asking me to change my entire personality! How am I supposed to do that? Why should I do that?"

Blaise snorted. "Oh please, Draco, your personality? Try your façade. We all know you aren't that much of a jerk-off. I've known you since we were kids; you can't pretend that you buy into all that rot."

"I do! Well, most of it I do. Ok…some of it. At least…I used to believe in it…wholeheartedly, I believed in it." Draco's voice trailed off and he looked at the wooden floorboards in shame. After his parents' brutal murders and all the suffering he'd endured and watched others endure…it was hard sometimes to believe that anyone, even mud-bloods deserved that kind of treatment.

Blaise sighed and scooted up next to Draco, resting his thigh companionably against his.

"Look, Draco, you don't have to turn around and start littering praise over all the mud-bloods and blood traitors. Hell, you don't even have to be friendly towards them, but you should at least try to not be unfriendly. Just try and curb your hostility. It wouldn't hurt to show some cold courtesy to them either.

"If you start being a bit more neutral, you'll be surprised at how many more people are willing to want to get to know you and more importantly, to tell you things. That's a good thing, ok? It's just like all those boring parties our parents used to drag us to, where they'd pander to all the ministry officials and how your Dad gave to charities and was a member on a number of different boards. Appearing decent isn't a bad thing and it gives you more future options if the Dark Lord's plans go pear-shape.

"So," Blaise's expression brightened and his tone lifted. "In summation: You need to adjust your attitude. You can keep being the cool, aloof prick that we all love you for, but you are no longer to go out of your way to alienate, insult or humiliate others, within and without your house. However, if someone does insult you, use that quick tongue of yours to construct an intelligent and well-thought out comeback and not stoop to using dumb insults to win your point.

"Now, onto etiquette. This is obviously linked closely with my first point and not pissing people off, but it also extends to common courtesy. You know how to eat with decorum, so you're table manners are very much perfect, but your manner towards others needs improving. This is as simple as offering drinks or food before serving yourself, opening doors for girls, or even guys – it's just a polite thing to do. When someone talks to you, listen to them with full attention if you can spare them, let them outline their point first before answering and consider their responses and at least pretend that you're not going to completely dismiss their arguments out of hand.

"Now you already know all of this, the gods know how much both our families drilled us into perfect upper-class little brat moulds - you just never bother applying it. I'm not saying you have to go too far with it, but the very basics will probably do here."

Blaise stood up and pulled Draco to his feet. "So, you just have to become that semi-perfect gentleman you were bred to be. Come on, let's do some scenarios." After that they ran for an hour or so through different situations where Draco had to respond appropriately or else get tapped violently on the head until he got it right. They then did a little role-play where Draco had to refuse Blaise's advances politely. Blaise got a knee to his balls for his trouble and he wincingly went on about Draco's right to say no, but not to do it quite so physically. After that, the lesson devolved into another make-out session with Blaise demanding it as an apology.

Eventually, Blaise managed to pry himself away from Draco's lips and stretching suggested that they both head down to the great hall for dinner. "In a moment," Draco replied, waving him off. Blaise shrugged and left without him.

Once he was alone Draco took a few moments to breath and just be by himself. Blaise was getting to him, getting under his skin and he was a bit worried that he wasn't overly concerned about it.

Snape had pulled him aside after their potions lesson that morning and interrogated him about Blaise before going on a tirade about something or other that Draco merely phased out, picking out only certain words, like family honour, obligation, Dark Lord, blah, blah, blah-dy blah. It was another terrifying aspect of the whole situation that Draco just didn't care what the repercussions would be for his behaviour.

Draco slowly rose to his feet and stared around the room momentarily before he returned to the ritual circle in the centre of the room and lifted the tome that lay beside it. It was a full four inches thick, a foot and a half in length, and a foot wide. Draco balanced it against his hip as he made his way over to Taliesin who was just now stretching in a wide yawn. Draco put the tome on the armchair and knelt down next to the cat that leapt up onto his back. Curiously, Draco pulled at the material on the floor, revealing it to be a Hogwarts robe, underneath was a crumpled white school shirt, trousers and most alarmingly a pair of boxers. Draco looked around the room as though confirming it to be empty.

He couldn't explain it to himself, but he picked up the shirt, shook it out and folded it neatly before grabbing the trousers and doing the same. As he flicked the cloth, something dislodged from the pocket and rolled across the floorboards. Draco located the object and picked it up. It was a slightly battered looking wand made from a dark toned wood. Draco ran his fingers over it carefully, feeling ever irregularity and scratch on its surface. The wand almost hummed at his touch quickly warming under his hand. He put the wand in the pocket that held his own and without another thought continued to straighten the pants. With thumb and forefinger, he grudgingly picked up the boxers and dropped them on top of the folded clothes. Lying before unnoticed on the floor lay one of the school ties, Hufflepuff by its colours.

Draco dropped that on the pile too and wrapped them all up in the cloak. He then picked up the tome that he'd left on the chair and struggled to his feet under the weight of the book. Taliesin dug in his claws painfully as Draco moved, eliciting cries of pain from the boy who freed a hand to swat at the cat. Draco bent to retrieve the clothes pile, dumping them on top of the book and headed out of the room. He bypassed the Great Hall, instead going straight down to the Slytherin dungeons and barricading himself in his room with the book weighing down his mattress. He hid the pile of clothes in the bottom of his clothes trunk and sat down to examine the book.

The pages were yellowing and crackled with age and the spells were written mostly in an archaic form of English in an almost indecipherable scrawl. Some pages were easier to make out than others, pointing at the likelihood of many different authors. There was even a section written almost entirely in French and Latin.

Absently flicking through the pages it was also evident that the entries had been added over a period of many years, no telling how old the tome was or how recent some of the entries had been made, but age seemed to resonate from the pages.

Draco's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since a half a sandwich at lunch time and he abandoned the tome, sliding it underneath his bed answering the call of his stomach and heading off to lunch. There'd be time later to figure out what he'd seen in the room actually meant. Right now, he was hungry and he had the weekend to look forward to. The mystery could wait til later.

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Saturday had been…an education. First off, Blaise and Pansy had cornered Draco in the boy's dorm, hurrying him into the bathroom shortly after morning tea and had started messing with his appearance. He'd protested and yelled throughout the majority of the process to no effect, the two were determined to give him a makeover for Gods only knew what reason.

Eventually he'd just tired himself out and given in to their ministrations planning on getting them both back for it later. There hadn't been much that they could do about his school uniform but they'd lectured him on the merits of muggle clothing for when he wasn't dressed for school. Pansy had brought in some muggle magazines that she professed were her "guilty pleasure", pointing out particular outfits and models that she lusted after. Apparently after Blaise had divulged his plans to Pansy for him, she'd immediately sent off for a few outfits. It was silly really, Draco knew he had impeccable taste in clothing, but couldn't really fault her choices, though he felt distinctly babied. He curiously kept poking the pages of the magazine, waiting for the figures in them to move to no avail, listening with only half an ear to what the two were babbling about.

Then Blaise had done the unthinkable. He'd _obliviated_ the hair product from Draco's hair and started rearranging his hair. _His hair!_ Pansy performed a body-bind jinx on him so that he wouldn't interfere with the makeover process at that point and he'd fumed in his invisible prison during the whole experience. Pansy and Blaise had congratulated themselves on a job well done and Draco had to grudgingly admit that he didn't look completely pathetic with his hair free of the product that normally kept it slicked back. Instead it fell softly away from his face, curling gently at the back of his neck as it was prone to. The two had strictly forbidden him from cutting it at all on pain of hexing. He didn't bother to mention that he'd been considering that at any rate and just grumpily let them play with his appearance for another hour.

After three hours of being preened over, Pansy had grown bored and disappeared and Blaise had dragged him out to the lake where he found a spot that was close to a gnarled oak tree and laid out a picnic blanket where he'd demonstrated some more 'persuasion techniques' and talked a little bit about aura manipulation, which Draco latched onto quite quickly. They'd then spent the rest of the afternoon huddled closely together on the picnic blanket, sharing the occasional kiss and enjoying the warmth that they generated on such a chilly day. When it had become too cold for Draco's liking they'd returned to the castle and to the Great Hall for a hot meal and drinks.

In this way, the three spent the next three weeks, with Draco taking 'lessons' from Blaise on Wednesday nights and Friday afternoons in the Room of Requirement – now more suitably outfitted - where Blaise managed to introduce the topic of 'the game' and all its intricacies which were almost as fascinating as the political power plays that his parents had partaken in. Clearly the adolescent version was just a forerunner for the real thing, but interesting nonetheless. They also discussed techniques in relation to a book titled, _The Art of War_ by a muggle author, Sun Tzu, which Draco thought was a rather appropriate subject but had immediately rejected reading it based on principle. Blaise had beat him over the head with it until he'd acquiesced and he'd actually found it quite interesting, though he still objected to the author. Blaise also gave him a book called the, _Kama Sutra_ which had him squirming in discomfort in front of him, though he found the knowledge enrapturing and had taken to reading it at night once his bed curtains were drawn.

On the weekends it would be Blaise, Pansy and Draco talking about fashion, appearance and working on Draco's practical abilities with many different Hogwarts students as test subjects to various degrees of success. It seemed the general prejudice against him was still so very strong, but so far he'd convinced a Ravenclaw that he absolutely needed her help in astronomy (which wasn't far from the truth) and had arranged for tutoring sessions on Thursdays before class. Teachers and other staff had even noticed a slight difference in Draco. Gone was the sullen, spoiled and disruptive boy that most of the staff were accustomed to.

Instead, Draco had become more apparently attentive in class, more polite and wasn't causing as much conflict with his presence. The sneers were down to the bear minimum and for many students and staff, it was rather disconcerting. Most people were just waiting for the moment that Draco suddenly cracked and returned to his former habits, but as the days and weeks passed and nothing happened, people began to accept the new Slytherin, convinced that the change was because of his new "boyfriend".

Betweens classes, and at the end of the day or whenever Blaise could wing it, he'd take Draco into whatever nook and cranny he could find to kiss him senseless. Not even McGonagall walking in on them was enough of a deterrent for the rabid teen. On one memorable occasion, Blaise had been pleasantly surprised when he'd felt an answering hardness against his own as he'd grinded into Draco. It had been the first time that the blond had shown any affectedness and only helped to increase Blaise's enthusiasm for him.

After that, Blaise had also decided to enlighten Draco on the subjects of foreplay and mutual masturbation, which turned to 'reciprocal pleasuring sessions' as he termed them, claiming them as payment but seemingly pushing Draco to the very edges of his comfort zone. But the idea of Blaise was intoxicating and extremely difficult to resist and Draco had come to almost expect it. He'd never go as far as actually having sex with him, but it was a near thing.

The other boys in the dorm weren't so thrilled, though Crabbe and Goyle showed very little annoyance, even when Draco and Blaise would hog the seventh year bathroom, forcing them to use the general bathroom, Theodore was becoming more agitated as the days went, eventually yelling at the two at the Slytherin table one morning, drawing the attention of all. After that, they'd been a bit more discreet about their activities in deference to Nott. Blaise suspected jealousy on the other's part and Draco was inclined to agree with him.

Over the weeks, Tally had grown considerably, meaning that Draco had to cast a spell not only on his collar but on his leg cast so that it would swiftly move to adjust to any fluctuations in size without weakening the actual strength of either object. He's gone to the Care of Magical Creatures teacher immediately afterwards and she'd luckily approved, though had looked about to strangle him for daring magic, even though it hadn't been directed on the cat.

It was the final week before Christmas holidays were due to start when Grubbly-Plank finally removed the cast from Taliesin's leg and Tally, already grown considerably from when Draco had first found him continued his rapid increase in size, so much so that when stretched out he was just over the full length of Draco's torso, though still rather spindly. Standing, he would come up to Draco's knee. Taliesin still had the unfortunate habit of sleeping over Draco's arm and sitting on his head whenever the boy refused to get up at the same time as the cat, on the odd occasion that Draco was able to sleep in.

Draco had spoken with Snape and it had been in his opinion that Draco should return to the manor to spend the holidays. He thought it was a rotten idea, seeing as it would be his first Christmas since his parents' deaths and the manor was so large that the emptiness would be enough to drive him to distraction. It was, however, safe. After inheriting the estate and becoming Lord of the Manor, all authority had been given to him, and with that the power to deny entry to any unwanted guests unless he was legally obligated to allow their passage. The land and the manor being as old as they were, no one, not even the Dark Lord himself could breach the walls unless Draco allowed it, which was comforting. Snape also argued that it would be the last place that he would be looked for, reminding him that his mother's murder had taken place there and no one in their right mind would want to return. Draco couldn't agree more, no one in their right mind would.

However, he was still legally under the imposing man's care, so he had to follow his orders to an extent. They were both going to travel there via the flu-network from the Hog's Head Pub directly to the manor, bypassing the traditional train-ride home. That in itself was another sad reminder of how he'd royally fucked-up his life last year by accepting the Dark Mark.

Draco saw Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle and even Theodore Nott off as they prepared to take the carriages to the station in Hogsmeade. He and Snape would be leaving later on as Snape still had some final business to take care of. Pansy spontaneously hugged him and quickly planted a kiss on his cheek before running off laughing to secure a carriage for herself and the others. Blaise also embraced him, but kissed him full on the mouth, his touch lingering and possessive much to the affront of McGonagall who'd come to supervise the others as they left. Crabbe and Goyle mumbled a Happy Christmas before trundling off and Theodore deigned to shake his hand before following them. It seemed that Blaise's insistence that Draco not be a total prat was at least paying off in-house if not among the rest of the school quite yet. After they'd gone, Draco returned to the empty dormitory and packed his things. As an afterthought he retrieved the massive tome from underneath his bed and stowed it with his other belongings as he prepared to leave.

A few long, absent hours later, Snape finally came to collect him and they made their way to Hogsmeade on foot, Draco's luggage levitating behind them, Taliesin firmly held in his arms. Draco was rugged up against the cold and feeling thoroughly miserable, though he supposed that he wouldn't be feeling any different had he stayed at Hogwarts. Absolutely no students were staying over Christmas and there were rumours that at least a quarter of the already diminished school populace would not be returning.

When they'd reached the Hog's Head and finally Flu'd back to the manor, Draco was almost grateful for its familiar walls, the daunting size of the rooms and elegance of furnishings classically displaying the Malfoy's considerable wealth. His chest became tight and he immediately hurried to his own quarters, trusting the house elves to take care of his belongings. Snape no doubt had already set up his own items in the guest quarter and was respecting Draco's wish for isolation at that moment.

It hurt so much. Draco buried his face in his pillow and tried to drown out all the images assaulting him at the familiarity of the manor. Images of his mother, coming in and caressing his hair as he slept, his father sitting with him as he studied, silently lending his support, his mother lying cold and mutilated on the floor of her study, his father, being dragged off to Azkaban. There was so much here, so many memories, so many secrets and regrets. But there was love too, he was sure of it. His father had been cold, and disapproving, but no one could convince him that his father didn't love him. He knew it, as strongly as he knew that his mother wasn't as indifferent to him as everyone believed. They just weren't as openly loving as other parents, but it really hit him now. They were gone. Forever. Somehow, his being alive didn't make sense.


	9. Christmas Wish

**A/N: **I bet you're all thinking FINALLY! Well, yes, FINALLY Harry makes his human appearance. Lollerskates. Anyway, some things are explained and many questions are left unanswered. This is as far as I'd gotten in the story, so whatever comes next will be influenced by your critique. Please enjoy! **  
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**CHAPTER NINE**

_Christmas Wish_

Draco spent the entire week leading up to Christmas sullen and unresponsive. Mostly he just sat in his room with his cat absently studying the tome, without actually paying attention to any of the pages. Occasionally he'd come out for meals spent in silence with his Godfather who asked the bare minimum of questions and didn't bother the sulking youth with small talk or tried to cheer the determinedly depressed boy from his funk. Christmas Eve came and for the second time in his short life, Draco wished that he could forget about the stupid holiday.

He spent the night studying the tome, not just with a cursory glance, but carefully and thoroughly, using his hands and his magic. He inspected the cover again, taking in the shield that had been branded onto the front of the leather binding. The creed was somehow familiar to him, he couldn't place it but he knew he'd seen it somewhere before. Draco removed himself to the family library that held an enviable collection of Dark Arts works as well as an impressive array of History books and encyclopaedias. There were also what seemed like an endless collection of spell books that Madam Pince would have wept over if she'd been able to get her hands on them.

The section that Draco was interested in was something his father had invested a lot of galleons and time in procuring and expanding. It was an entire section dedicated to old Wizarding Family lineages that not only had in-depth personal family histories, but the bloodline abilities and family trees. There was one particular Genealogy book that listed and represented all the crests and names of all the old wizarding families. Many of the families had died out or disappeared and of the hundreds of families that had once composed the elite of society only about eighty of those families in Britain still existed.

Draco pored through each page, matching the shield to the one embossed on the otherwise nameless tome, checking against it for similarities. It took him a while to find it, but when he had he felt a pain lance through his chest and he abandoned the book, dropping it like it was poisoned. The Book belonged to the Black family, his mother's family. Tremors began to shake his body and he backed away from the table, staring at the innocent looking book with apprehension. "Really not liking books right now," he whined, directing his complaint to the ceiling. "They all seemed set out to hurt me. And they're bloody inanimate, for Merlin's sake!"

His curiosity, however eventually got the better of him and he invested a bit more effort in reading the tome than he had prior to that day.

After an hour or so, and no further into uncovering more about the book, Draco randomly flicked through the pages in frustration until he happened on an etching that stopped him in his tracks. The ritual circle. Feverishly he scanned the page, realisation hitting with painful clarity.

In a panic he abandoned the book where he left it and sprinted back to his own quarters diving into his trunk. To the bottom was the bundle of clothes that belonged to some mysterious person that he'd without thought stolen from the Room of Requirement, but there really wasn't much to be said about that. He threw it on his bed anyway and undid the bundle, re-examining each item of clothing. There was nothing on any item to indicate who it might belong to so instead he returned to his trunk where he was certain that he'd thrown the other's wand. He scrabbled around until he'd found it and dashed back to the library, his breath coming in pants.

He read over the page he'd located, but apparently, the ritual didn't require the use of a wand. However, he figured that maybe he'd be able to find out something if he knew what the last spell was that had been cast. Draco cast _Priori Incantatem_ against the foreign wand, but it came back merely with a _Protego_ charm. Deflated and disgusted with himself he gathered the book up and carried it back to his room. He dumped it on an armchair in one corner and placed the foreign wand back in his trunk. He turned to his bed and eyed off his cat. Taliesin watched him with wary eyes, his tail flicking in an irritated manner back and forth as he returned the glare. Draco shuddered involuntarily and backed away.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't know why you're still in cat form but it freaks the hell out of me that you've seen me naked!" He told the cat with alarm ringing in his voice. Taliesin stared for a moment longer before yawning in a bored fashion and began washing himself. Draco stopped in his mad panic and considered the cat as he licked at his fur in a most undignified manner.

"Ok, I'm just paranoid. No Animagus would ever do that. Eugh!" With that, Draco left the room, backing out slowly as he warily watched the cat for any sudden movements. Taliesin did nothing more than continue cleaning himself, this time licking his chest. [iThere is no way that a human would lick his own balls, especially balls that hairy if he could help it,[/i Draco thought as he made his way to the dining room down the empty and echoing corridors. Much really hadn't changed at the manor when he thought about it. Malfoy manor when not hosting guests had always felt slightly too big. Almost like a haunted house. Now it felt like he was intruding in an abandoned museum.

The dining room was set in stark comparison to the rest of the house. The house elves had decorated the room with wreaths of holly and ivy and candles gleamed warmly from the table and the mantle over the fireplace. The fire was lit and the flames merrily cracked and roared, warming the air and adding a layer of welcoming ambience. The room felt rich and inviting, decked out as it was in warm reds and rich forest greens. The mahogany table was polished up to a nice shine and the table runner was a rich moss green colour. In the centre of the table stood a tall chubby candle that had golden twigs encircling the base as a centrepiece. All the cheer brought the room to life, but was completely wasted on the company present.

Dinner was ready and it promised to be a solemn affair. Snape was sitting at the head of the table in his usual gloomy black robes, reading the Prophet and only acknowledged Draco's appearance with a quick nod of his head.

The house elves had prepared a roast turkey for dinner tonight, a massive meal for only two inhabitants plus cat. Forgetting his table manners for this night at least, Draco picked listlessly at the well prepared and no doubt delicious meal and absently stared around the room. Snape finally dropped the paper and placed it beside him as he began his own meal.

Draco looked at the front page and froze. He tilted his head to make it out better, hoping he'd misread it.

_Harry Potter: A Month And Still Missing_

Draco launched himself in an undignified manner across the table and snatched up the paper, almost spilling the candles over as he feverishly scanned the article, ignoring Snape's protests.

_Despite frantic searching by his close friends, private detectives, and Ministry Officials, Harry Potter, the Chosen One remains conspicuously absent from this world and the Muggle world and there are fears that this brave young man may never surface again._

_Originally there was a host of sightings reported around London and Hogsmeade, but increasingly more wild claims have been made even as far as Bulgaria but any certifiable proof of his presence remains unsubstantiated. Hope among his friends and concerned parties is steadily dwindling and we have been put on guard to fear the worst._

_Christmas Day will mark the thirtieth day since his disappearance was made apparent and fears are that he was taken by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In such a scenario, it is unlikely that Harry Potter, the Boy who lived, has managed to survive._

_When we approached Arthur Weasely, close friend and surrogate father of the erstwhile teen for comment, he declined a statement but was clearly distraught as was his wife and children. Muggle-born witch and year mate to Harry, Hermione Granger had this to say._

"_He's smart, resourceful and oh god, he'd better come home for Christmas. I don't know what we're going to do without him. Please Harry, be safe."_

_There has been isolated criticism from some corners of the ministry that speculate that this is simply an attention seeking effort by Harry Potter. Professor Umbridge is one of the most fervent supporters of this view._

"_That boy has this nasty little craving for fame that makes him pull more outrageous stunts every year and he always comes out consequence free. Well this is different. If he dares show his face again, I expect him to pay for such a waste of manpower and public sentiment. He really is a nasty little child."_

_In this writer's opinion, it's inconceivable to consider this simply a ploy for attention and even more unacceptable to believe that he has perished. Even if Harry is intentionally maintaining his distance one can only expect it's for a highly good reason. But Harry, if you're reading this, please come back to the wizarding world as soon as possible. I stand for the entire community when I ask, for this Christmas Wish, return to us safely._

Draco read the article through three times before he dazedly sat back in his chair, his body numb. It was inconceivable, that he'd not heard this. Had he been living under a rock or something? Surely Snape would have told him, or… How could he not have heard of this? This should have been big news, but he'd not heard a whisper of it in the corridors of the school! What, did no one care that Harry Potter was missing, most likely en route to come kill him? He shouldn't have cancelled his subscription to the Daily Prophet, even after the highly unflattering "Thank god he's dead" article they'd done about his father in place of the obituary. Maybe…maybe that hadn't published it until now… News this big though wouldn't have remained secret, parents still would have told their children by owl, wouldn't they? I mean seriously…Although…and he had been _rather_ distracted these last few weeks, what with Blaise and the cat and classes…and Blaise. But…oh my god!

_Merlin's Beard!_

The mystery was solved. Draco ran a shaking hand through his hair as he tried to think of a way out of this. He closed his eyes and shuddered, on the point of passing out. He sank slowly in his chair and just stared off into the middle distance. Then he did the only he could think of. He opened his trembling lips and said the most appropriate thing for the occasion.

"Oh shit." Then he promptly collapsed.

[center[/center

At some point Draco had gone from unconsciousness into normal sleep and his dream was the weirdest, most vivid he'd had recently that wasn't a nightmare. It had involved him in bed with Blaise next to him. They'd started kissing and their hands had wandered and met and wandered again and it was the most invigorating and delicious experience that even reality couldn't begin to replicate. Blaise had pulled himself closer, tangling a suddenly bare leg with Draco's and he'd trailed his neck with licks, nips and gentle caresses of his lips. Draco shut his eyes in pleasure and all he could sense in the dream was the exquisite sensation of Blaise's tongue trailing a path down his neck and collarbone. Draco had moaned and run his hands through thick unruly locks and arched his back into the soft touches that alighted on his body. Blaise had pulled back and Draco's dream-self wasn't startled to realise that Blaise had morphed into Harry Potter who continued to gently caress him, looking down at him with adoration and a tender sweetness that he'd never seen on Potter's face in the real world, at least not directed toward him. Draco had lifted a hand to Potter's jaw and pulled him softly back to his mouth where they battled for dominance even in the tender kiss.

Potter pulled back slightly and stared into Draco's eyes for a moment before he lay his head down on the crook of Draco's arm and slid his own around the blonde's bare chest. Draco could feel the beating of the other's heart against his side and a deep rumbling of contentment from Potter who tilted his head to gaze up at Draco. "I wish I didn't have to kill you," he'd murmured softly in a tone more appropriate for professions of love, rather than promises of death. At that point Draco had simply sighed and responded gently,

"Don't worry, if this is how you're going to do it, then please, god, kill me because I don't think I could ever…"

And then the dream had faded, but the heavy purring that he'd felt in the dream followed him back into consciousness, as did the sense of someone lying next to him, entangled _with_ him, _HOLDING_ him.

He turned his head slightly as he slowly blinked into wakefulness. From his position he was greeted by a mop of messy black hair and even as he stared uncomprehendingly, the head tilted and the face was revealed. Harry Bloody Potter. In his bed. Asleep, _PURRING_! His arm was draped casually over Draco's chest and his leg was tangled with Draco's. His LEG! Harry sighed in contentment, a small smile gracing his lips and he unconsciously shifted up and nuzzled at Draco's neck softly, tightening his hold on the blonde. Draco remained prone still not quite believing what he was seeing or feeling. Then Harry affectionately licked the side of Draco's neck, making the blonde shiver and a shuddering breath escaped his lips. His breath ghosted over Harry's face making his nose twitch and his eyelids flew open at the irritation. He stared blankly for a moment His brow creased into a look of puzzlement, and his eyes remained unfocused without his glasses and it seemed he was having difficulty rationalising what he was seeing.

Harry blinked a few more times and his vision became clearer. Draco noted that the pupils were slowly changing shape, becoming more distinctively catlike. Harry frowned and raised himself slightly, staring quietly at Draco, who was frozen by the green-eyed stare. The silence stretched out unbearably and Draco was rigid from anxiety as Harry continued to look at him, clearly still having difficulty distinguishing him. Eventually, and with a waver in his voice Draco addressed the addled boy with an attempt at his old smirk.

"Well, Merry Christmas to _me_!" he said, cursing himself inwardly for saying something so inane. He propped his head up on his hand and ran a hand lazily through his loose hair, smiling casually even as his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

Harry's frown deepened and he narrowed his eyes at Draco, leaning in and studying his face intently. Abruptly he leapt back startled and sat on up on his knees as he edged away, eyes wide in disbelief and his mouth hanging open slightly. Draco stared unashamedly at Harry, drawn by the pale expanse of flesh presented to him. He let his eyes roam freely over Harry's body, feeling a little lecherous about it as Harry kept opening and shutting his mouth in disbelief, lost for words, his eyebrows drawn into an angry glare and his expression was only darkening. Draco was really beginning to fear the boy, sneaking a hand under his pillow for his wand…which wasn't there.

"MALFOY?!" Harry yelled, disbelief cracking his voice, his chest heaving violently with each breath. Harry lunged towards him with his arms outstretched, rage twisting his face. Draco reared back with a cry, but Harry managed to grab two fistfuls of pyjama top and slammed Draco into the headboard of his bed.

"DON'T KILL ME!" Draco screamed at the same time that Harry yelled almost incoherently at him, "WHY DIDN"T YOU COME TO ME?!"

In sync they both stopped in their struggles and stared wide-eyed at one another in puzzlement. "Huh?" they both said.

"What?"

"What?"

"Erm…don't kill me? Please?"

"Huh- what, Draco, what the hell? Kill you?" Harry's tail flicked behind him, Draco's gaze caught the motion and he opened his mouth in disbelief, his look returning to Harry's irate expression.

"Oh my god!"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Why'd you say, oh my god?" Harry asked, shaking Draco for emphasis. Draco mouthed wordlessly for a moment before looking up into angry green eyes. He cleared his throat and looked at Harry again, paying attention to some oddities he'd not noticed before.

Harry's ear twitched in irritation and Draco had to fight the sudden and very inappropriate urge to break down into a fit of laughter.

"Erm…well, you're Harry Potter. You're in mine bed, uninvited! I might add and you're…um…naked."

"What?"

"Naked."

"I'm…Oh my GOD!" Harry cried, releasing his hold of Draco and rearing backwards, staring down at his very nude form. In his haste Harry scooted too far, lost his balance and tumbled, unceremoniously off the edge of the bed with a stifled yelp. He hit the carpeted floor with a painful sounding thud and there was a brief silence before Draco heard a groan. Slowly, a bare arm appeared over the side, and Harry dragged himself up so he could peer over the edge of the bed, showing only the top of his face. With a confused whine Harry said, "I'm naked!"

"That's not the worst of it, Potter," Draco said gently, approaching the raven-haired boy slowly. "I don't know how to say this, but…you have a tail."

"Huh? A tail?" Harry looked behind him and grabbed the black swishing tail that had been swaying to and fro in agitation. He looked back at Draco. "I have a tail!" he moaned.

"And cat ears."

"And cat ears!"

Harry pressed his face into mattress and screamed, the sound muffled nicely by the sheets. His hands came up to explore the cat-like ears on the sides of his head and he spent a few moments like that before he eventually looked up at Draco through red-rimmed eyes.

"_Why_ am I naked?" Harry whined.

"That," Draco replied. "I have no idea about. What I want to know is why I went to sleep with a cat in my bed and woke up with _you _lying on top of me and purring instead, Potter!"

"I was purring?" Harry asked. Draco nodded and Harry groaned slapping a hand to his face and sank out of his eyesight.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Can I…do you have any pants, please?"

"Oh, I don't know, I kind of like you as you are," Draco responded with a smirk. Harry reappeared quickly with a glare, now visible from the waist up, arms crossed against his chest.

"Fine, ok. Just hold on a moment." Draco crawled out of the bed and approached his closet. Harry skirted the bed, trying to hide his dignity from Draco's view, his face beet red. Draco chuckled as he pawed through his trunk for the bundle of clothes that he'd picked up from the room of requirement. He threw them unceremoniously at Harry's head, who like a true seeker caught it mid air and immediately untied the bundle and began dragging on the boxers. He paused as he was pulling up the trousers, half crouched over himself.

"Wait…"

"Yes?"

"These are mine…"

"Yes."

"Why do_you_ have them?"

"Well, Taliesin – that's you, by the way – led me to them. And I don't know, I just picked them up. Taliesin - I mean you, in cat form - seemed quite attached to them." Well, not quite a lie. Harry pulled the pants up the rest of the way after a small shrug and started patting his pockets.

"Ok…where's my wand?"

"Your what?"

"Wand, wand! Where's my wand!?" Harry said, his voice rising in panic. Draco shrugged and looked Harry directly in the eye.

"No idea. I didn't see a wand there."

"It was in my pocket!"

"Are you sure it was in your pocket? It could have fallen out at any time, Mister Animagus," Draco replied. Harry looked up and realisation and dread seemed to dawn on him.

"Oh, oh no. Oh, this is bad. No one was supposed to know!"

"Potter, don't worry, it's not like I'm going to make the blackmail terribly unpleasant for you."

"WHAT?!" Harry screeched, stalking towards Draco, chest bare and heaving in anger. Draco backed up til he was pressed against the wall and faced down with an angry teen who was known for losing control of his temper and his magic.

"Harry, calm down," Draco said softly in a reasonable, calming tone. He was shocked when Harry backed down and took a long breath. He wasn't the only one. Harry froze and then turned to Draco, his eyes wide with fear.

"How'd you do that?!" He demanded his mood swinging back with volatility. Draco shook his head uncomprehendingly.

"I don't know!" Draco looked at Harry, who was shaking visibly with suppressed rage or fear. He ran his eyes from Harry's bare feet to the top of his head. He glanced at Harry's throat and a thought occurred to him. "Potter, sit on the bed," he commanded. Harry fought to remain where he was, but eventually went and sat on the bed, shooting Draco with a filthy look.

"The collar," Draco breathed in surprise.

Harry's hand flew to his throat in surprise and he rushed to Draco's closet, searching for a mirror.

"Malfoy….WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING!?"


	10. Fluffy Handcuffs

a/n: So, apparently I haven't submitted to this story for um....2 years? LOL. My bad? So after receiving a death threat (no, really, LMAO) I've decided to update....when the next update will be, who can say? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Look, it has HARRY!!!!!! R&R and I might post a new chapter much more quickly ;P

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"What the hell is this thing, MALFOY!?" Potter screamed at him again, approaching him swiftly, a thunderous expression on his face.

"Stop!" Draco cried in alarm. Harry visibly fought the command, but remained in place, straining against some invisible force. He eventually settled for glaring hatefully at his rival and his tail lanced from side to side in irritation. Despite the circumstances, Draco let loose a relieved sigh.

"Now, Potter, I can actually explain this, but you _will _calm down and listen," Draco said, trying to sound as commanding as possible, even as his knees felt ready to collapse beneath him.

Harry crossed his arms against his bare chest and continued to glare at Draco through burning eyes. Slowly, the set of his shoulders relaxed as Draco remained silent and collected his thoughts.

"I thought you were a cat, ok? A cat that I, the great and wonderful Draco Malfoy saved from the clutches of the evil little second years'," Draco explained with a flourish, ignoring Harry's snort of derision, he continued. "You were injured, so I took care of you, named you and put the collar on. Potter, I didn't know it was you, I swear!

"Anyway, I made the collar unbreakable – and irremovable because Tally – that's you – wouldn't keep it on. It was a variation on this old spell that I'd found in one of my father's books, so it-"

"_WHAT_?! You just made up your own _SPELL_?!" Harry screeched finally breaking his barely controlled silence.

"No! I just…tinkered with one. I didn't know there'd be a level of command to the spell!" Harry looked about to throttle him and Draco tried to press himself further into the wall. He held up his hands in a placating manner and continued. "Look, it's nothing special and it's probably not that strong! We'd have to test it to see its full effectiveness, but I think you'll find that I wouldn't be able to order you to do anything that you would wholly be opposed to. You do, after all, have some weird resistance to the _imperius_ spell and you never did listen to me as a cat much anyway. Actually, I'm quite surprised that the effectiveness seems improved…"

Harry continued to fume, glaring with barely controlled anger. Draco smiled and laughed nervously, trying to look as harmless as possible. Harry's face crumpled suddenly in an agonised play of emotion and he brought his fists to his face rubbing at his eyes and trailing them haphazardly through his sleep tousled hair. He let loose an inarticulate growl of frustration and turned away from the blond, his tail lashing in frustration. He paced the room in agitation throwing the occasional dark glare at Draco and settled at staring out the window.

The blond left him like that; giving him the chance to calm down. Draco could clearly see the tension spelled out in the rigid line of shoulders and his tail continued to swirl in irritation and at each rustle of Draco's clothing or another rogue sound his ears would twitch.

It was so strange, like nothing he'd ever seen before and that was saying a lot. The worst part was he just wanted to go up and touch the ears and run his hand down his tails and see if they were as soft as they looked. He'd even taken a couple of steps towards Potter before he stopped himself.

"You know..." He began hesitantly. "Your friends are worried about you." If anything, Harry stiffened further, his tail ceased its mad lashing. "You've been missing over a month. People think that you're in the hands of the Dark Lord. Some people even think you're dead." Harry's shoulders hunched forward as if he was caving in around himself.

Draco took a couple more hesitant steps towards him. "And yet here you are, in my bedroom. Quite clearly alive, though not how I remember seeing you last."

He was close enough now that he could see Harry's ragged breaths fog the glass and only a short length from touching. Draco thought that maybe Harry hadn't been listening or that he was ignoring him until Harry mumbled. "I screwed up," his voice rough and weary.

Then he turned swiftly, startling Draco back a step. His face screwed up in anger and all of a sudden the words spewed from his mouth, tearing from his throat agonizingly. "I screwed up _again!" _

Fitfully he began pacing between the window and the bed and Draco almost missed his next words, caught up in the sudden feline grace that Potter certainly didn't have before. But now his muscles seemed to shift and roll beneath his skin like a stalking panther's and it was a test of will for Draco to focus on what he was saying. "I was just trying to keep everyone safe! I was going to find a way to do this myself so no one else has to die and I can't even get one stupid spell right!

"And now I wake up a month later in my enemies' home with no wand, with no advantage and with no control over my own will!"

"Don't forget the tail and the cat ears," Malfoy interjected helpfully. Harry whipped around to glare fiercely at Draco. He advanced on him and Malfoy threw his arms in front of him to shield himself. Harry fisted his pyjama top in his hands and shook him angrily.

"So help me, Malfoy, if you don't shut up right now, I will hurt you and enjoy it!" Harry yelled. Draco struggled against his grip.

"Let me go!" He yelled as he tugged against Harry's hold. Immediately Harry released his grip and Draco fell to the ground in a heap, landing unceremoniously on his ass. "You asshole!" Draco screeched.

"This is your fault!" Harry screamed back, his face red with anger.

"My fault?! How is this _MY FAULT?!"_

"This stupid collar!"

"That _stupid collar_ is the only thing between me and your temper! You wouldn't have it on at all if you weren't so hopeless at everything!" As soon as that left his mouth, Malfoy immediately regretted it. Harry froze. Stopped breathing, stopped moving and just stared. His eyes were the only thing to betrayed life, running over Draco's form, still sitting on the floor. Something in his face broke and he averted his gaze, his bottom lip firmly clenched between his teeth. "I...I didn't mean to say that..." Draco murmured, fingers pressed to his mouth in shock.

Harry laughed humourlessly. "No, but you still meant it."

"No! No. It's just...habit. I mean....you're not totally hopeless," Draco responded.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him, folding his arms against his chest. "...Coming from you that's almost a compliment. Careful, Malfoy, you might be getting soft in your old age."

"Hey! We're the same age!" Malfoy looked at Harry from his position on the floor and carefully studied his face. The boy looked on the verge of tears; his eyes were glassy and his face still red from yelling, but it was slowly returning to his normal pale complexion. He looked broken and lost and uncertain and Draco did not like that look at all. "Help me up," he demanded. Harry automatically stretched out his hand for the blond to grab and tugged him to his feet, frowning all the same.

"Can't you take this stupid collar off?" Potter asked, he sounded annoyed, but at least his anger had abated for the time being.

Draco raised a speculative brow at him and smirked. "I probably could. But if our situations were reversed, would you?"

"Yes!"

"How can you be so sure about that?"

"Because I'd never do that to someone, not even you!"

"Even if you thought I'd hurt you?"

"Well...now that's - well that's.... actually that's a pretty fair point," Harry deflated as if all the emotion had drained from him, leaving him empty. He walked over to the bed and collapsed limply on the sheets, scrubbing both hands over his face wearily with a groan.

Draco hesitated a moment before his inner Blaise nudged him to sit beside the other teen. "Look Potter, I know that you're essentially naive and trusting and a good guy, but there's too much bad blood between us for me to allow you that same blind faith."

Harry snorted and the corner of his mouth turned up in a wry grin.

"Plus you lose your temper at the drop of a hat."

"Do not."

"Do too. Stop arguing, that's all beside the point."

"Then what is the point, Malfoy?" Harry's voice rose in volume and he turned his sharp emerald-green gaze on Draco. With interest, the blond noticed that his pupils had regained a more human like quality.

"The point is that I'm a Slytherin and it would go against everything I believe in not to exploit it a little...and...I need your help..."

"Wait, what?" Harry lifted himself up on his elbows and regarded Draco, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Well, not help per say. Look, let's just not get into this right now. You need to shower. You smell," Draco wrinkled his nose for further emphasis.

Harry rolled his eyes but made no further move to do as Draco bid. Draco stared at him in anticipation before snapping, "Well, go take a shower then." He smirked as Harry growled and climbed to his feet, following Malfoy's pointed finger to find the private bathroom that branched off the room.

The door closed quietly behind him and Draco listened for a moment as he heard shuffling noises, then the distinguishable sound of water running. He drew his eyes away from the bathroom door and surveyed his bedroom. Somehow it felt different, though nothing had changed in the grand scheme of things. The grey morning light that filtered through the window seemed brighter, the room felt warmer and the sounds emanating from the bathroom were a clear reminder of life; honest to gods, beautiful, brimming, vibrant, angry life.

Draco snorted delicately to himself, lamenting having spent so much time with Blaise. Clearly the man was a bad influence, but he'd known that going into the agreement. Draco had thought that it would be a harsh task to have to seduce Potter. He'd believed that he'd find the mere thought of sharing the same space with Harry a trial that he would be unable to overcome. But his opinion was changing more swiftly than he would like.

He mulled over the events of the morning and he had to admit that he had at points enjoyed himself a little. Of course, Harry's kaleidoscopic temper had at points terrified him and put him on edge. And at the same time...Draco shivered as he recalled the burning depths of Harry's gaze at the height of his fury. Even as he'd been cowed by Potter's anger a part of him - the pubescent part, most likely - had responded to the aggression. He'd been tempted to push him and keep pushing him, just to see what Harry would do.

As his eyes roved the room they inevitably fell to the miniature christmas tree that occupied the corner between the window and his fireplace. It was looking quite alone without the mound of presents that had graced the floor beneath it in years passed. Now only two plainly wrapped boxes sat beneath the tree. One was undoubtably from Snape and he would have bet money on it being the one that had been wrapped in black. The other was in Slytherin green with a silver ribbon adorning it.

There was no card or gift tag attached so he set it aside to unwrap his guardian's first. In the distance he could hear the taps shut off and the muted sounds of shuffling from the bathroom as he carefully, slowly unwrapped the present from the gift paper.

"Malfoy, do you have some clothes I could borrow?"

Draco turned to regard Harry who was at that moment standing in the doorway to the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and steam billowing out from behind him. His hair curled wetly against neck and Draco for a moment stopped breathing.

It took a moment to collect himself and he turned his gaze from a droplet of water that was slowly making a path down Harry's lean, lightly muscled chest to his face. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at him, clearly waiting for a response.

"Yes, I do," Draco said absently, returning his attention to his task, unwrapping what turned out to be a collection of books on advanced and esoteric potions. It was a typically Snape gift; in the past his godfather had always given him something from his own interests, whether it was books on potions and the dark arts to interesting and rare items that aided in said areas of interest. Draco didn't mind since he had formed his own attachment to the subjects. Though for once it would have been nice to have gotten something totally meaningless but sentimental.

"Well can I?"

Leafing through the pages of, _"Henbane, Belladonna & Hellebore: thrice dedly systrs of potions", _an archaic text on deadly but non-magical plants, their properties and usage, Draco barely acknowledged Harry's presence, but mumbled, "Can you what?"

"Borrow some clothes?"

"...What's the magic word?"

An aggravated grunt. "Can I _please_ borrow some of your clothes?"

"That wasn't the magic word I was referring to, but I'll forgive you this once," Draco said as he smoothly climbed to his feet. He stretched languidly, enjoying the feel as his silk pyjama top slid up his abdomen. Draco strode towards his walk-in cupboard and opened it, moving towards the back where he knew some of the muggle clothes that Pansy had made him buy were kept. For some reason, Malfoy couldn't really picture Harry in wizarding clothes; it just didn't seem right somehow. Plus, since Harry was slightly bigger than Malfoy, the shirt, which fit him quite well would be rather snug on Harry's larger frame. He found a long-sleeved, wide-necked, ribbed shirt that had three small jet black buttons along the front. Draco grabbed a pair of loose-fitted lounge pants in deference for Harry's new tail.

They were one of Draco's favourite pairs of pants that he wore exclusively in his rooms, away from the public eye. They were well-worn, but sturdy, soft and black with a tie at the waist. He paused on his way out, stopping at his dresser and he looked at Harry who was standing, waiting awkwardly in the doorway, looking out of place and starting to shiver. His eyes returned to the dresser and they lit with mischief. Draco went to the middle drawer and began sorting through until he found what he was looking for, balling it up into the bundle of clothes already in his arms.

"Think fast, Potter!" Draco yelled and threw the clothes at his head. Disappointingly he caught it, like before and Draco pouted but cheered upon Harry's scowl.

Harry retreated to the bathroom and Draco returned to his as yet unopened present that remained beneath the tree.

He pulled it towards him apprehensively. He hadn't been expecting gifts from anyone else this year, though the house elves would never have allowed it to enter the house if it would in any way endanger him. Despite this, Draco couldn't help but think that it wasn't as if wizards couldn't do anything they felt like if they really wanted and it wouldn't be the first time that something made it past the diligent house elves.

He picked it up carefully and when it - thankfully - didn't explode brought it to his ear for a shake. Nothing inside rattled. Cautiously, Draco peeled back a corner; when nothing further happened, he pulled back the first layer discovering a card attached to the box underneath that he quickly unfolded, reading the inside with curiosity.

"_Draco Dearest,_

_Happy Christmas, I miss you already! My life has been utterly boring without you to molest and I know that it must be a heartache to be separated from me in such a cruel way. So with that in mind you'll find the enclosed gifts to keep you occupied during this torturous separation. Think of me._

_Lustfully Yours,_

_Blaise_

_P.S. Pansy's and Crabbe & Goyle's gifts are also enclosed. What, you didn't think they'd forgotten you, did you? _

_P.P.S Don't wear yourself out, sweet cheeks."_

Draco frowned at the last cryptic post-script and shut the card, St Nicholas winked saucily at him from the front cover and he sneered before setting it aside. As he lifted the corner of the box's lid, with a loud crack that had him shriek and shield his face, the box exploded in a shower of enchanted snow and glitter and the presents spilled out onto the carpet around Draco.

"What is it?" Harry cried, running into the room still yanking on the shirt, alerted by the sound of the box bursting open. Wordlessly, Draco handed the card over to Harry as he inquisitively pawed through the gifts, aware of a curious Harry peering over his shoulder. The first thing he picked up was a small box full of assorted candies from Honeyduke's that easily would have been from Crabbe and Goyle. He threw that on his bed to open later and pushed aside the mound of snow that remained intact and icy on his carpet. His fingers were numb when he pulled something neon pink and fluffy from the ice crystals. He looked at it askance, turning it about in his hands before realising - to his horror - that they were a pair of fluffy muggle handcuffs.

There was a gift tag attached to it which simply stated, "_lots of love, Pansy._" causing Draco to roll his eyes. He left that discarded in the middle of the floor and continued his search through the mess in front of him. There was a small care pack which on first glance looked to be simply toiletries. On closer inspection there was a handheld scalp massager, scented massage oil, a silken blindfold - and most disturbingly - grape flavoured lubricant.

Draco quickly dropped the contents back into the bag it had come from and moved away from the lot of it, dragging the books with him and taking safety on his bed, his face flushed a bright red.

He passed Harry on his way and was disturbed to see the look of amusement on Harry's face as he eyed the fluffy handcuffs and the bag, though he hadn't seen exactly what was in that, thankfully. Dangling limply from his hand was the christmas card and it only then occurred to Draco that he'd handed over a very personal, very revealing correspondence that could have been used for blackmail if it had even crossed Potter's mind, or it could be used as a source of ridicule.

"Give me the card back," Draco demanded flatly. He wasn't about to let the Gryffindor keep a hold of that. Harry's hand rose compulsively and offered the card. From the disgruntled hiss and the flinch, he was clearly still resentful over the whole thing.

"Seriously, Malfoy, can you just get rid of this stupid collar? This is bloody ridiculous!"

"You know I can't do that, Potter," Draco sing-songed as he thumbed through the pages of one of his books absently.

"It's not right! I'm not a slave and I'm not a dog or a performing monkey! No one should have their freewill taken from them without their consent!" Harry raged. Draco remained quiet for a while, his gaze steady on Harry's face s his chest heaved with angry indignation.

"It's not the simple, Harry," Draco lied fluidly. "Look, it's not that bad. You would have handed me the card regardless of whether I ordered you to do it or not. I probably can't make you do all that much even if I tried."

Harry eyed Draco suspiciously. "Prove it." Draco's brows rose and he hesitated a moment before nodding decisively. The card lay discarded on the bed as he stood and turned to face Harry from a short distance.

"Ok...come here."

Rolling his eyes, Harry came to stand in front of Draco and placed his hands on his hips, an eyebrow quirked in inquiry.

"Well, prompted by the collar, or your own actions?"

"Collar."

"Fine. Jump on the spot." Harry flinched and clearly fought the order than began jumping on the spot. Draco stifled a laugh. "Stop!" Harry crossed his arms and glared at Draco.

"See?"

"Wait a moment," Draco raised a hand to his jaw and contemplated his next order carefully. "Ok, we need to try something a bit different then. Go to my bedside table; in the top drawer you'll find a letter opener-"

"Why do you have a letter opener in your bedside table?" Harry questioned even as his fingers grasped said knife and drew it from its place.

"That's unimportant. Now, what I want you to do is take that knife and stab yourself," Draco ordered imperiously. Harry's mouth fell open in shock and he stood staring at Draco like he'd gone insane.

Noticing his continued resistance, Draco shrugged dramatically and smirked at him.

Realisation hit and Harry quickly put the knife back in its place then turned angry eyes on Draco.

"That was very dangerous, Malfoy," he growled.

"Well at least we learnt one thing; I can't order you to self-harm, or harm anyone else, I imagine."

"Do you want to test that theory?"

"What, with me as the victim? No, no thanks Potter, remember, _I don't trust you,_"

"Believe me, it's mutual," Harry responded, folding his arms against his chest. Draco copied his stance as he thought of his next order. Suddenly a wide grin spread across his face and Harry eyed him warily.

"Pat your head and rub your stomach simultaneously."

"You jerk!" Hary cried as his hands immediately flew to the task.

"Now switch hands!" Draco chirped.

"Malfoy!" Harry snarled in reply as they switched positions, haltingly resuming their movements. Draco let a small chuckle escape before he ordered Harry to stop again.

"This just proves my point!" The Gryffindor raged as he came to a standstill.

"Don't be so impatient. If you want to know the limit to my influence, you have to thoroughly test this!" Draco protested. Harry's eyebrows dropped in a glare.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He muttered accusingly. Draco responded with a mischievous grin. An inhuman growl erupted from Harry's throat, shocking the both of them. Draco held up his hands placatingly.

"Fine, I'll stop with the humiliation..." _for now_. "So we can assume that anything that's relatively harmless I can make you do, so that's more or less like _imperius_, but what about things that you're strictly opposed to?"

"Well, obviously hurting myself or others is thankfully out of your control," Harry replied and Draco nodded in acknowledgement. If he was still on the opposite side of the war it would have been a useful tool to have. Luckily it was out of their hands - for both their sakes.

The two each drifted off into silence, leaving the other to their own thoughts. Draco kept his eyes on Harry as the boy prowled the length of the room in a circuit, his tail twisting and curling almost hypnotically. One hand was buried in that lusciously messy head of hair, the other propped against his hip. For the first time, Draco really took the time to look at Harry, without hate or jealousy clouding his thoughts. He was thin; he'd always been thin though he no longer looked undernourished but had the build of a professional seeker. He was all wiry muscle beneath pale golden skin, lightly tanned from afternoons no doubt spent in the sun. His hands were work roughened and a spiderweb of scars decorated the skin along the back and continued over long slender fingers. It made him curious for the stories behind them.

He carefully studied Harry's face; that mouth that was a little too wide, his nose that was straight and narrow, the high cheekbones and those gorgeous, hooded green eyes that caught the light and seemed to change color with his moods and somehow managed to convey the breadth and depth of his emotions more effectively than his voice ever could. As Harry turned he caught Draco's stare before he could avert his eyes and he blinked, carefully studying him in return. His black cat ears twitched and swiveled and had Draco not been caught in his eyes with his thoughts increasingly headed south, he would have been amused had he noticed.

"You've thought of something, haven't you?" Harry asked with a worried edge to his voice. It startled Draco from the mini fantasy that had been forming and he had to shake himself before he was capable of responding.

"Well...there is one thing I'm curious about..."Draco said hesitantly. "But you probably won't like it." _But I might._

"And what part have I enjoyed so far, Malfoy?"

"True. Most likely you'll be able to resist since we know how much you like me-"

"Where is this going?" Harry asked warily. Draco avoided his gaze and quietly weighed the pros and cons of his next order. Of course his inner Blaise was ecstatic at the idea, which only made it more worrisome but his curiosity was getting the better of him. And it's not like it would hurt anyone in the long run...it could just be potentially embarrassing and Potter would hate him for it; so really there would be no great alteration of feelings on that front.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Potter ordered gruffly, his mouth a thin serious line. Instead of immediately responding, Draco moved closer to his bed - he at least wanted somewhere soft to land if things went awry.

"Potter, come here," he ordered. Harry rolled his eyes, though obediently did as he was told coming to stand a safe distance in front of him. "Closer." He took another step. "Closer!" there was barely an inch between them and Harry's face was red with (hopefully) embarrassment, but most likely frustration. He stood awkwardly in front of the blond, fidgeting impulsively as he waited for the next command.

"Hold still," Draco ordered. He looked warily up into Harry's for once blank face and hesitantly reached up with his hand to touch his ear. By the sharp intake of breath, this had not been what he was expecting. He allowed himself a grin as he ran the tips of his fingers delicately along the curl of the twitching black ear. When Harry said nothing, Draco brought up his other hand and did the same to the opposite ear, gently exploring the feel of it. His hands drifted further into Harry's hair, feeling for the point where human flesh stopped and cat skin started. Draco ignored the sudden gasp from Harry's lips, solely bent on his exploration.

There wasn't a definitive line between the cat and the man; it seemed to blend almost seamlessly together. The ears were much larger than a human ear, but it was proportionate to Harry and it should have looked weird or wrong but it somehow seemed to fit.

Harry's lip was caught between his teeth and he eyes were shut tight but he couldn't prevent the purr that reverberated through his chest. Draco smirked, making sure to remember Harry's sensitivity to that spot before he withdrew his hands, sliding them down to Harry's hips and pulling him flush against him.

"Wha-what are you doing?" Harry almost yelped. Draco shrugged mischievously and looked up at Harry from beneath his lashes.

"Just testing the limits," he murmured softly; he was close enough that he could feel Harry's elevated heartbeat through the protection of their clothing.

"How?" Harry demanded, a note of panic now evident in his voice. Draco leered at Harry, taking in the faint blush to his cheeks and reveling in the wide-eyed uncertainty that made Harry's eyes appear larger, more crystalline than they were. He drew his hands up from Harry's hips and bunched them in the front of his shirt as he tilted his head to the side. He felt like a predator playing with its food and his tongue ran along his lips in anticipation. There was a sensation in his chest, a sort of burning that he associated with a lot of his thrill-seeking stunts of the past and it let him throw caution to the wind and just do what he felt in that moment.

He pulled Harry closer so that his feature began to blur because of their proximity. Draco's lips curled lasciviously, wantonly as he held his breath waiting for the punch or the shove, curious to know Harry's reaction to his next command. He laughed minutely as he fondly gazed at Harry's nonplussed expression.

"Kiss me," he said.

* * *

a/n: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Never go quietly into the night! R&R and you might get the next chapter sooner :P

p.s. ROFLCOPTER


	11. Chapter 13

**A/N: **So...anyone think I'd actualy update? LMAO. I'm not THAT cruel...well, yeah, I am actually. That's beside the point. ANYWAY in a couple places you'll notice double asterisks. Basically, I wasn't sure if I was using the correct terms, and I'm too lazy at the moment to actually research it, so if anyone wants to let me know what the actual words are or if I'm right, MUCH LOVE! Please R&R.

* * *

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time; the whole animagus thing. Move around without being seen, get into tight spots without the use of magic to alert death eaters, or others with ill-intent. And yeah, it was a risk and an extremely large scale piece of magic like nothing he'd ever attempted before and certainly not without the help of Hermione and Ron. He was aware that there were risks, just like there were with any kind of magic that affected something living but he'd been prepared.

Harry hadn't gone in blindly thinking that it would be a piece of cake nor had he decided to go ahead lightly. He'd had time over the summer holidays and all the books that he needed at his disposal. Grimmauld place had proven itself to be as dark and dreary and full of - excuse the pun - black magic that he'd ever feared.

But the most enlightening book he'd found had been tucked under the mattress of the dark oak, four-poster bed that had dominated Sirius' attic bedroom.

It was a manual created by Msrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs, which was like a catalogue of pranks and mischief; a retelling of their Hogwarts escapades and detailed instructions on how they had done it. Including spells, potions and book references.

He'd found it right at the start of the summer when the adults had installed him at Grimmauld place "for his own good". When it was clear that they'd intended on keeping him there indefinitely he'd removed himself to admittedly sulk in Sirius' old room and uncovered the well-worn dog-eared book.

Harry could just imagine Sirius sitting up here after his release, running his fingers nostalgically over the yellowed pages, maybe thinking back to the 'good old days' when James had been alive, they were all friends and he wasn't ostracized as a murdering lunatic.

Very shortly into the manual was an account by both Sirius and James, a conversation that had been written on loose leaves of parchment musing over the discovery of Moony's lycanthropy. There were little asides, and even what looked to be notes taken for History of Magic interspersed with the conversation and on the following page was one single sentence.

"The Black Familie Booke of Magick" It stood out on that page, outlined and decorated, drawing the eye to those six simple words. The next page continued like the rest. Conversations between Sirius, Remus and James in their own distinctive scrawl. There were drawings that moved and wriggled across the page, pressed herbs, flowers and even a dried out lizard stuck between the pages and interspersed throughout the book.

It was strange looking through it. He could picture Sirius and Remus and even Wormtail but James was still a stranger to him though slowly he was building an image of the young man that he'd never meet. And like he had imagined Sirius' fingers caressing the worn and torn edges of the manual so did his.

Though that one page and the following conversation about the Animagus ritual stayed stuck in his mind. And it wasn't till he'd hefted the large tome up to the attic and had been studying it for what felt like days that he realised that he'd resolved to do a bit of mischief of his own.

The rest of that time he researched the herbs, spells and procedures that he'd need to complete for a successful Animagus transformation, ignoring the worried glances and questions directed at him by his two best friends. He spoke to no one unless they asked him a question and if he didn't feel inclined to answer he remained silent. The only times he came out of his room was to go to the library for more research, to shower and go to the bathroom. Meals he had Kreacher bring to him, though he hated the sight of the elf more fiercely with each passing day that he was stuck in that house with nothing but his frustration to keep him company.

Then one night, tired of the "it's for your own good, Harry", "we're just looking out for you", "please talk to us, Harry", "tell us what's going on!" he left. Securing his cloak of invisibility, the marauder's map, his wand, broom and the tome, he stole from the house while the adults were discussing their plans in the kitchen as Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins were listening at the door. He left; tiptoeing past the Lady Black and quietly shutting the door behind him. He cast the confundus** charm over himself and took to the skies flying low to the rooftops of London, making his way ever closer the train station. From there he followed the train track that would lead to Hogsmeade. He flew all night and touched down at the outer edge of the forbidden forest, numb from the chilling wind and panting with exhaustion just as the sky was tinted a cool grey from the coming morning.

On foot and wary of the inhabitants of the forest, he made his way towards the castle, keeping as close to the edge as he could, but far enough that he was shielded by the trees from immediate sight. It was there that he used a nifty little spell to change the pattern of his school robes to appear like the Hufflepuff colours, though the emblem was still that of Gryffindor. Harry didn't really plan on running into anyone, but hopefully if he did, they wouldn't pay close enough attention. He'd even gone to the precaution of slightly altering his appearance the way Tonks had drilled him on during a fit of boredom when Harry had still been on speaking terms with the adults. He was nowhere near the accomplished metamagus** that she was, but he knew enough to change his hair colour and length and eye colour.

If all else failed there was always the cloak, but he hated to use that after that time on the train with Malfoy. Instead he relied on the map, on his own senses and hopefully the anonymity that the uniform would provide him. It was almost a let down when he was able to easily enter the castle using one of the lesser known outer doors and stroll down the halls to the seventh floor to the room of requirement without meeting a single soul, living or otherwise.

Harry should have guessed that things had been running too smoothly. The room provided all the books and basic materials that he'd needed. What he couldn't get there he managed to steal from Snape's private stores of ingredients or from the greenhouse and even some things from the forest. It took five days in all to have everything prepared and not even a shade of apprehension seemed to dog him.

Standing in the ritual circle was the last thing that he remembered. Everything after that was a haze of colours, sounds, sensations and little else. that he'd been like this a month was worrying. He had never intended to disappear so dramatically or so completely. He'd sort of expected to go, do the ritual, maybe some snooping, then send an owl to let everyone know he was safe and well.

But here he was with cat ears and tail, pressed flush against Draco Malfoy of all people with an enchanted collar around his neck making him do things that he didn't want to do.

It had been clear that Draco had felt that his next command would be ignored or that Harry would retaliate. Of that much he was sure, and looking at it from a logical stand point, there really was no reason for Harry to obey it.

Harry wasn't used to touching people or being touched and he certainly was not used to the idea of kissing. His only experience had been that abortive attempt with Cho and a minor infatuation with Ginny that never amounted to much, what with his mood being generally agitated or the company they were with or some other distraction. He had always felt distinctly uncomfortable when things progressed too far, as though he was being crowded in and he wasn't normally inclined to initiate.

And of course let's not forget that Malfoy was a boy. And well..he was also Malfoy; the Draco Malfoy who had made it his life's mission to annoy the shit out of Harry Potter. The boy who had stomped on his face, breaking his nose and then left him hidden under his invisibility cloak for Tonks to later find. The same Draco Malfoy who had attempted to kill him and was, in general, a rather annoying prat. The Draco Malfoy who now had power over him like the imperius never did.

The Draco Malfoy, who in fact, he was now kissing. It wasn't much, just a soft press of lips on lips but Harry had moved before he himself had even realised that he'd done so. He stared down wide-eyed at Draco's face, blurry in his vision, but he _felt_ the surprise from him as well. Harry pulled back quickly and tried to remember how to glare but knew he was failing miserably, his face warm with embarrassment and his insides tingled with shock and adrenaline.

Draco was looking up at him, his stormy grey eyes round with surprise and a small hint of glee. Needless to say, Harry was rightfully worried.

"You call that a kiss?" Draco sneered challengingly. "You can do better than that. Kiss me again,"

Harry managed an incredulous, "What!?" before he found himself tilting Draco's head and claiming his lips more fervently, distinctly aware of the hands that had snuck into his hair dragging delightfully against his scalp. Those deft fingers found their way to his ears and he moaned aloud, almost melting into a puddle of contented goo as they teased the extremely sensitive skin there. If he'd had the faculty to retreat he would have when a foreign tongue entered his mouth to tentatively caress his own. He couldn't even think though, with those fingers finding the right spot on his ears.

He felt himself answer the invasion, moving his tongue against Draco's, searchingly, uncertainly. It was a different sensation, hot, humid and so intimate that part of Harry didn't even think that this could even be possible and especially not with Malfoy. The other part of him was praying that this was just a bad dream and that he'd wake up at Grimmauld Place in the attic, but that part was slowly diminishing, replaced by a hope that maybe this wasn't just a bad dream. Harry squashed that sudden inconceivable emotion and tried to reconnect with his own body. He felt detached, impartial and yet drowned by the sensations that made the situation seem so dreamlike.

All of a sudden, he felt his world tip and it took him a moment to realise the Draco had sunk to the mattress behind him and was dragging him with him, one hand still in his hair, the other forcefully tugging his waist belt. Draco groaned appreciatively when Harry's body lay flush against his and Harry's body burned with immediate embarrassment and realisation, but he couldn't pull away, not with Draco's murmuring for him to not stop. He did pull away, however, when he felt the erection pressing into his stomach, but he didn't get far with the iron-like grip that Draco had on his wrists.

Crossly the blond raised his head, "What on earth did you stop for?!"

Harry attempted to pull his arms free, his anger and indignation coming to the fore. "How dare you, Malfoy!" He hissed.

"What?" He asked innocently. Malfoy pouted before pulling himself more comfortably on the bed, regarding him with an almost possessive air.

"What you just did! What you were going to do! How could you?!" Harry yelled, his voice cracking, his vision almost blind with anger.

"You weren't complaining a minute ago," Draco replied dismissively, barely expending the effort to roll his shoulders in a shrug. His eyes trailed appreciatively over Harry's mussed appearance and it made him feel dirty and abused.

"You know, I always thought that you were petty and needlessly cruel, but I never would have expected you to go so far as to take advantage of _anyone_ in that manner," Harry seethed. Draco's eyes narrowed in response and his lips drew into a thin line.

"Oh?" His voice was almost deathly quiet, icy and controlled. "And what manner is that?"

"Don't pretend you don't know, Malfoy. What you did - what you were going to do - would have been tantamount to rape!"

"Really?" Draco burst into laughter, shocking Harry into stillness, his breath caught in his chest and his anger morphing into outraged confusion. Draco ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it more before placing that hand over his heart. His eyes were twinkling with amusement and something else indescribable. The chuckle died in his throat and Draco shook his head, a smile pulling the corner of his mouth up in that trademark Malfoy smirk. "But Potter," Malfoy continued, mirth ripe in his voice, "you can't rape the willing."

Harry had another moment of shock, barely heard the renewed laughter from Draco as he felt his insides drop, till he felt hollow. Draco's words seemed to echo in that space and it had Harry frantically shaking his head in disbelief. He stumbled backwards away from the bed, his arms came to circle his middle, clutching frantically at the shirt he wore but it didn't stop the shivers that ran down his spine.

What Malfoy had said was singularly cruel and lacking in thought. The very tone of it made him nauseous but not as much as the thought that there might be an element of truth to it.

His raging thoughts and feelings were brought to an abrupt halt by the sharp rap on Malfoy's door, followed by the voice of the person that he never wanted to hear from again.

"Draco, will you be joining me for lunch?"

"_Snape," _Harry hissed. He'd practically forgotten the man's existence whilst in this room, but now he could think of nothing but him. Whatever hatred he may have felt for Draco Malfoy at any point during their acquaintance, it was nothing compared to the vitriolic loathing that built in him at the sound of that man's voice. He growled deeply in his throat and he felt his nails lengthen, his tail swayed madly behind him and he fell into a crouch, eyes firmly on the door.

Snape called out to his protege once more before the door swung inward to reveal Snape, just as Harry had remembered him as he turned to Draco to address him _"Sna-meow!"_

Draco turned to him with wide eyes and Snape gave him a cursory glance before returning his attention to Malfoy.

Oh Bollocks, not again.

***

There were fingers running lazily through his hair soothingly. That was the first thing he noticed as Harry drifted back to consciousness. He could feel himself purring and he'd never felt so rested before. He adjusted himself on his pillow, squirmed when it wasn't as yielding as it should have been and nearly jumped from his skin when he felt his pillow chuckle.

Harry's eyes sprang open and he was greeted with the sight of a line of little black buttons that marched up the length of the moss green button-up shirt that Malfoy wore. He was using Malfoy's lap as a pillow. From the slight breeze against his back Harry could tell - immediately this time - that he was without clothing yet again and if he hadn't been feeling so groggy, he would have moved to cover himself. Instead he blinked up at Draco, his expression cross.

"Welcome back to the land of upwardly mobile, Harry," Draco greeted him. He didn't miss the sound of his name on Draco's lips but chose to ignore it and the shiver that hearing it sent down his spine.

"Clothes?" He asked, voice husky as if he'd been sleeping. He felt Draco lean back to retrieve a bundle from behind him and Harry belatedly realised that he should probably get off his lap. He remained where he was however, blinking the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. Draco dropped the clothing onto his chest with a laugh, his hand returning to stroke Harry's hair.

Harry groaned in pleasure; he wouldn't have been able to stifle it if he'd tried. "What happened?" Harry asked as he slowly drew the bundle apart till he grasped the boxers. He stopped for a moment as they unfolded in his hands and then looked up at Draco's amused expression.

On the back of the right leg of the the boxers, the Malfoy crest was proudly emblazoned and shining in the dim light coming from the window. Beneath the seal were the words, 'Property of Draco Malfoy'. Harry should have felt insulted, but he was more amused by it than anything else.

"You turned back into a cat, that's what happened," Draco responded. "Don't you remember?"

"Mm...not really." Harry rolled his hips as he pulled the boxers on then lay back down, feeling inexplicably worn out. Tiredly he rubbed at his eyes then let them rest blearily on the sight of Malfoy's mouth; it was a nice one. Not too full, a little bit pouty and right now twisted with wry amusement. "I can't believe you've got the family crest on your underwear."

Draco snorted inelegantly and shrugged his shoulders. "We are a proud and highly....territorial family. We like people to know what's ours-" Draco cut off abruptly and bit his lip, averting his eyes to the large window that was letting in the feeble midday sun. Harry looked up at his face and wondered why he was no longer angry. He felt drained; emotionally and physically and he just couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. He was warm, _mostly _human and completely out of his depth. For now it was all he could to just to enjoy the insular warmth of Draco's room and the almost absent run of fingers through his hair. Draco's finger suddenly traced the curve of one ear, causing it to twitch and Harry to groan with contentment. Now he knew why Mrs Figg's cat's had always loved a good scratch behind the ear.

"Comfortable?" Draco asked in amusement. Harry settled more comfortably on Malfoy's lap and remained silent, too tired, too comfortable and too apathetic to respond.

"It was a lucky thing that you did change. I have no idea how I would have explained to Severus why I have Harry Potter in my room." At the very mention of Snape, Harry bristled, his top lip pulled back, baring his teeth with a feral hiss he couldn't surpress.

"How can y- how can you_ stand _to be in that man's_ presence_?" Harry seethed, hands clenching and unclenching compulsively.

"Breathe, Potter," Malfoy ordered wryly. Harry hit him limply in the chest as he laxly sank back, and took a long calming breath.

"He's my guardian whether you like it or not and he has saved my life on several occasions. He's not as awful as you think." Harry scoffed, folding his twitching hands against his chest and stared incredulously. "Don't give me that look! There are...circumstances. Believe it or not, but Severus was faithful until the dire end. He still is," Draco's hand slid from his hair, leaving him feeling cold.

"I find that difficult to believe," Harry replied, as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He pulled the shirt over his head, but left the pants where they were.

"You should try having a little more faith," Draco snapped.

"Is that an order?" Harry quipped, an edge of venom in his tone. If only he could remove this stupid collar!

"It's a suggestion, one I'd never have thought I'd have to give to the 'Golden Boy'." Draco abruptly stood, walking briskly to the fireplace and lighting it with a quick flick of his wand. He turned his back on the newborn flames and folded his arms against his chest, eyeing Harry with a small measure of disdain.

"One I'd never expect to hear from Draco 'Pureblood' Malfoy."

"I don't know if you've spotted this, _Potter_, but I've changed. I'm not the same person that you saw on the roof that night. I'm not the same person you met back in first year."

"Yeah, loss can do that to a person." He'd meant to throw an insult, a barb and was shocked as the words left his mouth, spoken softly, hollow sounding. The room fell silent, the temperature seemed to drop. Harry stood from the bed, the temptation to walk over to Draco and try to comfort him was strong. If Draco had been anyone else right now, he would have already been over there, wrapping him up in a tight hug. He wasn't good at intimacy, but he knew that right now, the thing that Draco would probably need most would be just that. Another part of him wanted to rub up against his leg or nuzzle at him just like he would if he were a cat. Inwardly Harry cringed. The animagus ritual must have gone spectacularly wrong if the side-effects were anything to go by.

Draco had turned away, his jaw working as he stared into the flames.

Harry had heard about what happened to his parents, of course; it had been big news and a sign of the deepening madness of Lord Voldemort and his followers. It hadn't been unexpected though and despite the fact that Lucius had been as guilty as sin Harry didn't believe that he should have been Kissed. It would have been better had he been made to live with the guilt of his crimes, given the opportunity to truthfully atone for his sins and maybe change his thinking. Narcissa had certainly not deserved the death she'd been given; one that was by all accounts needlessly violent and horrifying.

And though Harry didn't like Malfoy on the best of days, he didn't deserve to be made parentless. Harry wouldn't wish that fate on anyone.

He couldn't imagine what Malfoy would have gone through; having it happen when he'd had the opportunity to know, love and be loved by his parents. Growing up, Harry had never known that kind of family love, had been deprived of it and hadn't known life could be anything else until after meeting Sirius. The death of his godfather had been a tougher blow than losing his parents as an infant and he'd never forget the moment it happened. However Sirius had passed rather painlessly whereas he knew that was not the case for the Malfoys.

The silence stretched between them endlessly as Draco continued to stare into the flames, his back rigid with tension, arms folded against his chest.

It was four hesitating, dread-filled steps from the bed to Malfoy. It was an agonizingly small distance to stretch out his arms to him and Harry felt almost feverish from the effort. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, ignoring the flinch and the sharp indrawn breath. Warm hands flew to his and he was so sure that he'd be thrown aside that he was surprised when those hands pulled him closer, fingers interlocking with his own.

Harry leaned his chin against Draco's shoulder, could feel the fine tremor racing through his body and tightened his hold, his chest firmly pressed to Draco's back. The fire crackled merrily in the room providing its warm, wavering light; otherwise it was quiet, not even their breaths seemed to disturb the quiet.

He wasn't sure how long they stood that way, but it never occurred to Harry to feel awkward about their position. Eventually Draco's grip loosened and he slowly pulled away. Draco turned to him with a neutral, stony expression and gave him a nod. Of appreciation or just acknowledgement, he couldn't know.

"So...what now?" Harry asked, breaking the spell of silence.

"That's really up to you. _I'm_ going to read a book. I'll ask the house elves to send up food around dinner time, hopefully Severus will get the picture and won't come bother me again." Draco responded. He picked up one of the new books his godfather had bought him and sank into the the overstuffed armchair by the fire.

It left Harry at a loss for what to do and he stood uncertainly in the middle of the room for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him and he began to prowl the room, examining the bookshelf and its titles, poking around the walk-in closet that housed more clothing than Harry had ever own in all his years. His own reflection made him pause and he approached the mirror warily. He didn't look much different if you weren't looking closely - and if you ignored the cat ears and tail. The eyes that stared back at him, though being the same colour, had the pupils of a cat. He blinked and watched with interest as they changed shape with the light.

Shaking himself, he moved back out of the closet and looked around the room, again impressed by the sheer scale of it. It was almost the size of a classroom at Hogwarts, though much more decadently attired. How many bedrooms could hold an ensuite bathroom, walk-in closet, writing desk, fire place, queen-sized bed, sitting area _and _a Christmas tree?

Despite all the luxury, he felt like a caged animal and he prowled the room, examining the contents of the desk, the bedside table, and the small mound of gifts left near the Christmas tree. The enchanted snow had dissipated sometime ago, most likely when he'd been asleep. Harry could feel Draco's gaze slide over him occasionally, but he never once called a stop to his exploration, which Harry's sanity was grateful for; he wouldn't know what he'd do if he just had to sit still.

He picked up the little care bag that Draco had hidden from him earlier and opened it, examining the contents with interest...then wisely rezipped the bag and toed it away from himself, his face burning a mad red. He was climbing to his feet when he spotted it - another present that must have rolled a fair way from the explosion, hidden by the shadows and the lower branches of the tree. It was long, wrapped in clear cellophane with a pearlescent white ripping adorning one end. Harry returned to his hands and knees and reached for the present, ending up flat on his stomach and his arm outstretched to reach it.

With triumph, he managed to grasp it and draw it towards him. He held it up under the light and nearly choked.

Coughing, he twisted his spine to regard Malfoy who looked firmly entrenched in his book. "Um, Malfoy? You missed a present."

Draco looked up inquiringly from his book, eyebrow raised. Harry held up the prize, hand gingerly wrapped around the base. He gave it a little shake and burst out laughing as the ribbon danced with the movements. Draco's eyes widened and he launched himself from the chair and grappled the object from his hand, an intense blush crawling up his neck.

Harry lay on the floor laughing, clutching at his middle. "Was there a gift tag?!" Draco demanded as he ripped off the clear wrapping and removing that ridiculous ribbon. Harry shook his head amid peals of laughter and wiped at his eyes which were tearing.

As it turned out, there was another layer to the wrapping. The _thing_ was sheathed in a slipp of paper that turned out to be another message from Blaize simply reading, "Have Fun, Honey Bunny!"

The appalled look of Draco's face was priceless as he ran to his writing desk and dropped the neon blue dildo into the top draw and slammed it shut behind it. More calmly he returned to the centre of the room and turned to Harry. "Are you quite finished?" He snapped at him. Harry shook his head and tried to take huge gulps of air to settle down. He was managing quite well when he'd look over to the desk or the infuriated expression on Draco and the laughter would burst from him.

"Stop laughing!" Draco commanded, which only had Harry laughing harder, Draco stomping off into the bathroom in a strop and Harry eager that the command hadn't worked. Maybe the collar's effectiveness was wearing off.

It took him a good ten minutes before he'd settled down, though the smile remained affixed to his face and he thought that it would be a good idea to find that key and play a little prank on Draco. From the sounds in the bathroom, it appeared that Draco was showering and Harry took the opportunity to scrounge through the contents of the desk to locate that key. Once he did he pulled the dildo out and contemplated where to put it. He settled on beneath Draco's pillow on his bed and gleefully tucked it under. There was no chance he could ignore the intrusion - it was _huge_.

With mischief managed he dusted off his hands and moved over to the bookshelf, pulling out one of only few novels from the entire collection and sprawled out over the other half of the bed, squirming in the sheets until he was comfortable, nestled in for the wait.

He only got a couple of paragraphs before fading off to sleep, the wicked grin still twisting his mouth and his dreams full of mice and ferrets and chases and...neon blue dildos.

* * *

**A/N: **So anyone who is observant may be wondering about the title of this chapter. Truth is, for some reason I numbered it incorrectly, and it sort of stuck. There has to be a reason, right? Lol.


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